


Rebirth

by Ninjam117



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Deathshipping, Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon, Slow Burn, Thiefshipping, its all fluff, platonic conspire eventually, redemption arc
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-02-18 22:05:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13109430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ninjam117/pseuds/Ninjam117
Summary: To live without feeling is just existing. To die with satisfaction gives peace.But he wasn’t either.(Yami Marik redemption arc)





	1. Empty

**Author's Note:**

> There's no smut in this story. At all. Begone if that's what you're looking for.
> 
> Takes place five years after Battle City, so I estimate they're all about early twenties-ish.
> 
> This is basically a prompt that I started but never went through with until I saw something online that made me spitefully write this out for one purpose that quite frankly doesn't show up until ten chapters in but whatever LETSDOIT

_To live without feeling is just existing. To die with satisfaction gives peace._

 

_But he wasn’t either._

 

_He lived with anger and madness. He died with fear and desperation._

 

_He survived with regret._

 

_And still…_

* * *

 

“Bakura! Hurry up or I’ll be late!”

 

Faint footsteps trailed through the hall. Too faint for a normal person to hear even if they tried to pay attention. Whispering from the next room could be heard, followed by the normal soft voice of their landlord.

 

“I already told you, he’s probably in bed still. And if it makes you uncomfortable you can always stay here with him.”

 

The ‘he’ in question was still in bed, though he wasn’t asleep. Sleep wasn’t something that came naturally, even after existing for a week.

 

That’s right. It had only been a week…

 

The door shut. Silence throughout the apartment again. His eyes stayed trained up at the ceiling, the fan looping around unchanging. One of the nights he counted the amount of times it went around until he passed out, reaching up to 15,170. 

 

Or maybe it was 15,171.

 

A knock at the door. Even without a verbal signal, it opened.

 

“Are you awake yet?” The voice from before asked, “I was making some breakfast before heading out if you wanted any.”

 

He stared back at the maroon eyes. Even in the shadowed room, they were like bright beacons from the light behind the young man. The vessel that housed the thief. The one that he had cast aside.

 

He nodded.

 

“Ah. Okay!” The other responded, “Well. If you get up and get dressed, we could eat together. But if not I’ll leave it on the counter.”

 

He nodded again. The door shut. He stared up at the ceiling.

 

One. Two. Three. Four.

 

He sat up.

 

Five. Six. Seven.

 

He stood up.

 

Eight. Nine.

 

Not bothering to change out of the too large shirt and sweats, he opened the door into the bright hallway. Noise was pouring from the kitchen space. His feet padded along through the hall until he found himself sitting down at the table. The vessel was standing at the stove, a frying pan in one hand and a spatula in the other. The white-haired man gave a small wave when he entered, but didn’t say anything after. 

 

He stared down at the table. He never sat here often, but he hadn’t existed for very long since coming back. His hands ran along the dark stained wood, feeling the smoothness under his copper touch. But even looking down at the wood reminded him that he wasn’t quite right.

 

A plate was placed in front of him. A steaming hot mixture of cooked egg and rice sat on it. Automatically he took the spoon next to it, but continued to stare.

 

The white-haired man’s watch went off.

 

“Oh! I’m late,” he said, plate half-empty already. He dropped the pans and his plate into the sink filled with soapy water. The young man went straight for the door, "I made you lunch. It's on the top shelf in the fridge. You can eat it without putting it in the microwave if you want."

 

He looked back down at the plate, food no longer steaming.

 

He took a small mouthful.

 

It tasted empty.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“I’m off!” Ryo called out, making sure the door was locked, “I’ll try to pick up some clothes that will fit you better on the way back from work!”

There was no response, but Ryo knew that the other had heard him. He shut the door and hurried over to the elevator.

The white-haired man tried to spare as much time in his morning routine to cater to the newly born… Hmm. He didn’t even have a proper idea of _what_ his new roommate was. From what Ryo knew, he looked somewhat like Malik Ishtar, one of his neighbors and the one who had stirred up problems at the Battle City tournament all those years ago. But there was something not quite Malik about this other. 

For one thing, Bakura didn’t like him at all (not that the spirit liked anyone in the first place). But he also wasn’t like Bakura or the pharaoh that had originated in a millennium item. When the other Malik had shown up with Bakura, none of them had an explanation at all.

“Whatever. I’ll try asking again today,” Ryo sighed to himself, walking through the metal gate to the apartments, then started running down the street to catch the transit. 

Once there, he pushed through crowds and shuffled through the toll stall until he was standing at the platform. He checked his phone. He’d make it with at least five minutes to spare.

His foot tapped against the floor. He debated on texting Malik again to come over, but he refused to have anything to do with this other Malik (even though they technically lived in the same complex). Ryo then thought about asking Bakura to get the blonde to be reasonable, but even he was weary (not that he’d admit it out loud).

The transit rushed up and stopped. The doors flew open and everyone piled inside. Ryo situated himself comfortably between the doors and the occupied seats, holding onto a hanging handle just as the train took off again. Domino city flew by in a blur.

Ryo could faintly see his reflection in the glass window. With hair pulled back and face more defined, he couldn’t help but think about how much he looked like his father. He supposed it was better then looking like Bakura at the moment.

The train stopped, and Ryo once again pushed his way through the crowds and back onto the street. Up three more blocks and he was at the museum. He went through the various exhibits to the offices in the back. He stole a glance at the small Egyptian exhibit that was currently being renovated, empty placards and scattered tarps throughout the room.

Even though it had been years since battle city, it seemed as if dealings with the millennium items hadn’t quite settled just yet. At least, not with him or Malik. 

“Good morning Bakura-san!” The receptionist said, “You have calls from Kaiba Corp, the Domino historic society, and a representative from Egypt’s cultural preservation committee on hold.”

“Thank you, I’ll take them all now,” Ryo sighed, heading to his small office tucked towards the back. Despite being a low level associate, he was already busy before being clocked in.

The calls went by without any problems, although by the time he had gotten off the phone with Kaiba Corp it was already lunch time. He had gotten a text from Bakura about meeting up down the street at the little bakery (which sent off alarm bells in Ryo’s head). And as soon as he arrived, he realized why. He marched right up to the table without hesitation.

“Are you done ignoring my texts now?” Ryo asked as he slid into the small booth that Bakura and Malik had been sitting in. Like Ryo, Malik had grown more defined with age: hair smoother and longer, muscles somehow more toned despite working in some managing position for Kaiba Corp (and present even through the business casual suit he wore). Bakura, on the other hand, was nearly unrecognizable. 

Even though he had told stories about what had truly looked like in his past life, Ryo failed to believe he was as stick thin as he was right now. They all chalked it up to the side effects of coming back from the other side, but even after a week the thief had hardly put on any meat on his bones, cheeks still slightly hollow and skin lacking any luster. He probably hated the way he looked so small, bundled up in his sweaters.

Ryo’s thoughts went back to the other Malik.

“No. Actually,” Malik said, gripping onto a mug of coffee in one hand as he leaned against the booth with the thief, “At least not until you plan on getting rid of that monster in your closet.”

“He’s not in the closet. He’s in my old room,” Ryo corrected. A waitress came over and delivered two more cups and a plate of small cream puffs. Ryo could smell the hazelnut in one, and somewhat reluctantly took it (he needed more caffeine after that call from Kaiba Corp). Bakura took the other and shotgunned it down without blinking. 

“Doesn’t matter what room he’s haunting, the point is he is leaving,” Bakura said, leaning back and folding his arms together, “It’s been a week, and all he does is sit around and do nothing.”

“I thought you wanted that though. He hasn’t murdered me in my sleep after all, I think he’s hardly a threat,” Ryo said, poking at the cold plate of puffs, “Or you could at least go move in with Malik like you had planned on doing in the first place.”

“That was before a literal monster showed up after,” Malik frowned, “If you’re not going to kick him out, then you're going to move in with us at least-”

“I’m not ‘moving’ anywhere,” Ryo interrupted, glaring at the blonde. He hated how much the two of them treated him, even after five years. Showed what the two of them knew,  “And as much as I’d like to believe your stories about him, I can hardly believe it’s the same person. Especially if it’s someone who just wanders around the apartment aimlessly."

Bakura leaned over the table, “That may be true, but it’s not about what he’s done. It’s what he’s _going_ to do. When I came back I was given back the life that was stolen from me.”  

The thief suddenly grew sheepish, sitting back down and looking off to the side.

“And. You two somehow had something to do with it obviously,” he muttered, then shook his head, “But that, ‘Other Malik’, was just a mistake. He wasn’t supposed to come along from what I can tell. Or you two somehow messed up that spell.”

“Oh please. I couldn’t mess anything up even if I tried my very best,” Malik scoffed, swishing his cup before drinking it, “Besides, I had both Ishizu and Rishid look over it. I doubt all three of us could’ve looked over some small detail.”

“Either way he was still a mistake-“

Ryo abruptly stood up. The table shook from where his legs hit the edge.

“You two keep bickering and going on and on about all these evil things he did in the past, but I find it hard to believe that the quiet mouse living in my apartment is anything like that,” he huffed. He threw some notes down on the table as a tip, stuffing his hands in his pockets immediately.

“And as much as you two keep going on and on about how horrible of a person he is, you ought to take a look in a mirror first,” Ryo snapped. Malik immediately cringed as the white-haired man marched out the door.

“Oi. Landlord. Ryo!”

An arm grabbed his. Ryo felt his fist clench. He looked up, Bakura’s face void of any expression. His eyes shone bright however, frustration reflected in them.

“… Sorry. That was uncalled for,” Ryo said halfheartedly. Bakura loosened his grip.

“Look. It’s been a long week. And coming back has left me groggy, and obviously we all could use a break,” the thief sighed, “Why can’t we just ship him off to Egypt to live with Malik’s siblings. I’m sure they would have a better idea of what to do.”

Ryo folded his arms together, glaring at the thief. Bakura tried to stare back with just as much ferocity, but it came off more desperate then he probably wanted (especially considering how much taller Ryo was to him now). His cheeks puffed up slightly, the scar stretching down his eyes curving along his face.

“Well… How about we try this,” Ryo reasoned, "Instead of shipping him off, we actually do the civil thing and try to get to know _what_ he is instead of leaving him alone at the apartment all day and locking the doors at night.”

“No. I like my plan better.”

Ryo took a steady breath, then exhaled.

“Okay. How about this: I’ll call in sick and stay with him for this whole week. Then we can know if he really is as dangerous as you say.”

“Woah there. If you mean by yourself, then I’ll gladly put up with living as the nightwatcher until you decide to wise up,” Bakura said. Ryo rolled his eyes.

“As much as I’d like to say that would work, I kinda want my space back. And I’m sure Malik is feeling lonely up in his apartment by himself.”

Ryo could see this working. Potentially. Sure he hadn’t exactly shared space with the other Malik for more then required, but he did have the literally embodiment of a demon living in his body for years. Pretty much the same thing if the stories of Battle City were accurate. And they couldn’t avoid this other Malik forever. 

Bakura crossed his arms, mirroring Ryo subconsciously. His jaw clenched with a hum. Ryo couldn't help but think of it kind of endearing the way Bakura was constantly hovering over him, though obviously if he said that out loud the conversation would go south immediately. Instead, Ryo rocked from foot to foot, letting Bakura think it out.

“…You do owe me remember-“

“ _Fine_ ,” Bakura hissed, “But the second you come running out of that apartment screaming bloody murder, he’s done for.”

Ryo grinned to himself, turning on his heel, “Couldn’t be worse then what you and Malik were screaming the first the night you came back.”


	2. Despondency

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now here’s a characterization that I rarely see done right in a conspire-esc story: the little panda fighter Yuugi. 
> 
> As much as everyone would like to have him panicky and pleading the second trouble rises, that’s probably the _least_ accurate thing I’ve seen. In the manga, while he does react whenever his friends are in trouble, if he knows they’re not in any immediate danger, he knows not to intervene, especially with Ryo. See the Otogi arc in the manga when Yami B shows up and instead of running the other way or saying anything to his friends about the ring, he’s pretty chill about Ryo keeping it. Also see the beginning of the Millennium arc where he doesn’t say anything about Yami B getting the god cards back.
> 
> Not that he’s ever mentioned again in this story. 
> 
> *deep beleaguered sigh*

“-and then Marik surrendered. The duel ended, and his other self was sent away because of the cost of the shadow game. None of us heard about him since.”

“I see. I guess it would make sense,” Ryo said, finishing off the addresses of the invitations to be sent out for the museum. He paused, flexing his hand, “And… Marik never said anything to you, or Atem before he moved on?"

“No. Not even when Marik moved here,” Yuugi said from the other line.

The rest of the work day went by quickly after lunch with the two trashlords. Without any new exhibits coming in quite yet, Ryo did a few mundane tasks to keep himself busy. Of course, his mind kept wandering elsewhere the whole time, so for the last hour of his shift he decided to call up Yuugi.

“It’s strange though. Are you sure it was him that came back?” Yuugi asked, “It doesn’t sound like him at all, or even look like him from what you said. Did you want me to come over and see if it’s him?”

“N-No. I believe you,” Ryo said, “I’m sure after this week I’ll be able to find out more on where he came from. Besides, he doesn’t seem very social anyway. We don’t even know if he remembers Battle City.”

“Okay. Well. I’ll probably check on you some time this week anyway. Your shipment of Monster world pieces are coming in soon,” Yuugi chirped, “Don’t hesitate to call the shop either! Maybe you can buy a puzzle or something for you to do together.” 

Someone started yelling in the background. Yuugi let out a wince, “Sorry, Ryo. Gotta go, lecture is starting!”

“Alright. See you later.”

He pressed the button on his ear piece, then leaned back in his seat. A whole week. Seven days. With the other Marik. This _would_ be interesting.

To be honest, Ryo didn’t think much would go on this next week. Hardly anything happened for the past few days in the apartment, even when he and Bakura were there. 

Still, Ryo figured it was just because Bakura kept them from staying in the apartment for long. Surely if they spoke for just a little bit, then maybe they could all at least get some answers as to _what_ he was and _how_ he got there. It wasn’t like the other Marik was a little kid after all. They would get to the bottom of this.

He looked to the clock on the wall. Looks like his call went over a bit. Time to go.

As he gathered his things and mail, he saw his paycheck in the small pile. A thought suddenly went through his head. Ryo rushed out of the office, saying a small ‘bye’ to the receptionist. He turned and went straight for the shopping district for new clothes.

Between Bakura and Marik’s other, he had to rummage through him and his father’s old clothes for the two. Except Bakura was too short, and Marik’s other was too tall. Not to mention how skinny the two were now. Ryo knew he’d have to get a few extra shirts definitely, but would hold back on pants until they put on some proper weight.

“He’d probably like to wear something that’s on the tall side,” Ryo said to himself, going into the first store with a giant sale sight in the window. Yeah. Maybe a small gesture would help break the ice. He debated on getting some things for Bakura while he was there.

“But then again, I’m sure Marik won’t mind Bakura running around half naked all day,” Ryo chuckled as he skimmed through one of the sections. Remembering the way his clothes fit on the other Marik gave him enough of an idea of what to buy, though he kept the general style simple. A few shirts here, a jacket and sweater there. It would get cold in a few weeks, so maybe an extra hat would be nice.

When he got to the section with shoes, he paused. The other hadn’t bothered going outside the apartment at all, not even out of curiosity. Maybe he did when they weren’t there, but his feet didn’t seem to be hurting, and none of Ryo’s shoes seemed to have been used. Ryo wasn’t even sure what his shoe size was (maybe he could ask Marik later).

Holding off on that, Ryo at least bought a pair of sandals and some socks for the other. Even if they were too big, they would at least be comfortable. Once he counted through everything again and was waiting in line, he started to really come to terms with what he was doing.

Marik’s darker half. Another part of Marik’s mind that came from the darkness of his heart…

Ryo shrugged his shoulders. Couldn’t be that hard to take care of. After all, it wasn’t like he was eight, waking up on a boat from Egypt back in Japan with no recollection of what happened except for the golden necklace hanging from his neck. He knew what he was up against, and he knew that could go a long way on his own.

With clothes paid for and bags in hand, Ryo went back to the transit again. 

His phone vibrated in his pocket as the train went along. Shifting the bags, he glanced at the screen to see it was Bakura again. 

_‘Were you murdered yet?’_

Ryo rolled his eyes, tapping a response with his free hand.

‘ _I dunno. Did you and Marik finally drive each other insane?’_

Bakura’s reply came slower.

‘ _Marik wants to go to dinner.’_

Ryo laughed inwardly at how transparent he was being.

‘ _Why? We already had lunch together.’_

_‘There’s no food in the fridge.’_

_‘You home already? I though you went to Marik’s.’_

_‘I did. But there wasn’t much when I left. Remember?’_

Ryo paused, doing a mental check list of all the food left at the apartment. Crap! He should’ve gone grocery shopping.

‘ _Marik says we can eat at that little takoyaki place you like.’_

Oh. Of course.

‘ _Did your boyfriend say that I can bring his other part?’_

Bakura paused even longer this time, the little response bubble lingering as he probably key smashed. That was another thing. Marik absolutely refused to have anything to do with his doppleganger. Even after a week, Marik insisted that they either take the other back to Egypt or get as far away as possible without another word. He didn't even want to come to Ryo's apartment.

If there was one thing Ryo hated, it was how people tried to keep him in the dark. And if those two weren’t ever going to tell Ryo what else had gone on while he was asleep during Battle City, then he’d find out this mystery himself.

The train stopped at his station and Ryo hurried off. His phone finally responded. Surprisingly it was Marik.

‘ _If you didn’t want to come along, you could’ve just said so.’_

Ryo rolled his eyes, and stuffed his phone back in his pocket. So much for civility. He focused back to getting home.

The apartment lights were off, as usual. Ryo got to his floor. Typically Bakura was there waiting outside the door for him so he could ‘make sure the hellspawn didn’t torch the apartment’. Ryo checked his phone again for a response just in case. Nothing. The bags suddenly felt rather heavy in his hands.

He wondered for the briefest moment if what Yuugi had said before on the phone was true about the other Marik. A father killing entity of madness…

Ryo unlocked the door and entered.

“I’m home!” He announced into the darkness. With no response, Ryo went about the daily task of turning on the lights. He did this for a few reasons. One: to see what the other Marik had been up to all day, if anything. Two: to try and _find_ the other Marik. And three: to alert the other two that he was still alive.

When he found most of the apartment empty, Ryo knew that the other Marik was back in his old room. Originally, the three of them had all planned on moving in together, and would convert Ryo’s old room into Marik and Bakura’s (if they moved things around there would be plenty of room). But when the other Marik showed up, things obviously didn’t work out the way they intended.

The young man shuffled through the hall, making sure to be somewhat loud as not to alarm the other. The door was closed, as usual. Ryo knocked his knuckles lightly against the wood door.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“ _Hello?”_

 

_His eyes shot open at the voice. It was there, somewhere in the dark. It wasn’t like the other voices, however. This one was something else._

 

_As he reached for it, fought to get to it, something inside was ripping apart. Tearing away from his very soul._

 

_But even that pain wasn’t enough to keep him from fleeing the darkness that had trapped him for so long. The darkness that had bore him. The darkness he hated._

 

_Hate._

 

_Hate…_

 

The rough sound of someone knocking on wood penetrated through the silence. He blinked a few times as he woke up without realizing it. When did he fall asleep?

 

The door creaked open, and in a manner similar to just a few hours earlier, a white haired head poked through.

 

“Ah. Were you sleeping? Sorry!”

 

He stared, not knowing what to say. He shrugged his shoulders. The young man shuffled on his feet, as if trying to figure out what he was going to say.

 

“Could you come out here for a moment? I haven’t made dinner yet! But I wanted to show you something.”

 

He nodded, rising up and trailing over to the door. Even with the height difference, the thief’s vessel simply smiled at him. He always seemed that way. Seemed so… Not like the thief.

 

“Over here,” the white-haired man said, going into the larger room by the apartment entrance. There were plastic bags sitting on the small table in the middle of the room. The vessel went over, and started pulling clothes out.

 

“I wasn’t sure what you would like, so I kept it simple,” he said, “There are some shirts here. And some sweaters. There’s also a few pairs of pants with a drawstring just in case they’re too big. Oh! And some socks.”

 

All the while of talking, the vessel kept pulling out the different articles of clothes. 

 

He stared down at them blankly. Clothes.

 

“I hope these are alright,” the vessel sighed, looking out to the array of articles laid out upon the couch, “I couldn’t get you any shoes though, since I wasn’t sure what size you’d be. I found a pair of slip ons that seemed like they’d fit for now.”

 

He stared down at the pile of new clothes. He scratched the back of his calf with his foot.

 

“… Okay.”

 

He turned around and went back to his room without another word.

 

“H-Hold on.”

 

He paused, turned around, and looked to the vessel.

 

“Uh… Did you like any of it?” The vessel asked. 

 

“They’re clothes.”

 

He turned around to go back to the room. He paused when the vessel made a noise again.

 

“Um… There isn’t much food left in the kitchen, so maybe we could go eat somewhere?”

 

The white-haired man gestured to the pair of sandals that he had bought, the smile from before still present.

 

“…”

 

He turned and went back to his room, closed the door behind himself, and sat on the floor.

 

Footsteps followed and stopped just outside the room. He waited for the inevitable knock. And waited.

 

And waited.

 

And waited.

 

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

His fist hovered against the door, hesitant.

Did he do something wrong? Ryo figured that maybe if he had given a small gesture of welcome then maybe the other would say _something._ He felt a bit irked by the other’s action, but tried not to be. This wasn’t something that could be done overnight obviously. But he thought they’d at least be able to converse a little…

“I’ll be here tomorrow,” Ryo said softly, “I would normally have work, but I’m calling in sick. So. Maybe in the morning we could go get breakfast? Or at least get something to make for breakfast?”

No response. Ryo frowned, brows furrowing. He bit his lip.

“How about I order us some take out for now? We could eat together.”

Still no response.

“It can be just the two of us if you’re still weary about Bakura,” Ryo said, then stopped himself. He thought about telling the other that Bakura wouldn’t be back for a week, but what would happen? Probably nothing. But what if he starts coming out of the room more because of it? Then maybe he should say something-

_“… Is Marik around.”_

Ryo jumped when there was finally a response. He leaned closer.

“Um… He’s probably still at work,” Ryo said honestly. He worked late on some days, so there was a good chance that it was true (although Bakura’s corresponding texts said otherwise), “We can probably go see him tomorrow if he’s not busy.”

_“… Okay.”_

Ryo breathed a little. Finally, some progress.

“Well. I’ll get you when the food is ready then-”

The door swung open, making Ryo jump. The other Marik was slouched over slightly, never quite standing tall yet still towering over him.

“I’ll put away the clothes,” he said, then nudged Ryo out of the way as he shuffled back into he living room. The white-haired man stood there, somewhat surprised by the action, despite it being slow. He took the opportunity to peak into his old room.

Everything was the same as he left it, except for his borrowed clothes lying around the floor. The bed covers were still tucked in (was he just sleeping on the top?). Not even his figurines or books were touched. Maybe he wasn’t into those-

The other Marik cleared his throat. Ryo turned around to see him with the new clothes in his arms. Ryo stiffly stepped aside. 

He dropped the clothes onto the bed, sat down on the part not covered, and flopped backwards. The two stayed like that as the small bedside clock ticked away.

Ryo scratched the back of his neck. Maybe he would need some help with this.

“You can put those in the drawers,” Ryo suggested, then grabbed the hamper from the closet. He started picking up the used clothes for laundry. When he gathered them, Ryo tried not to look at the other. When he stole a glance, the blonde was still staring up at the ceiling.

Ryo’s cell phone went off in the other room. He set the bag of clothes down before running to grab it. He frowned as soon as he saw the name.

“Yes Marik? What is it?”

“ _Geez. Don’t be like that.”_

Ryo sighed as he laid out onto the couch, propping his legs over the armrest, “Can’t blame me. Given how little you want to enlighten me on the situation. Seriously, I had to call Yuugi today to find out what happened during the Battle City Finals-“

The sound of something dropping came from the other side, followed by Bakura cursing.

“ _You didn’t.”_

_“_ Yeah I did,” Ryo shrugged, “At least I now know what we’re dealing with here.”

“ _I told you what he is. He’s just a mistake that I made when I was younger. That’s it!”_ Marik huffed. He paused for a minute, “… _You really called Yuugi today?”_

“You didn’t really leave me much of a choice, ignoring all my questions for the past few days,” Ryo sighed, “I mean. As much as I’d like to just say he’s not human and send him to Egypt, I dunno, there’s just something that I feel about him that’s different.”

The phone went static for a moment.

“ _Yeah. Because he isn’t like me or the pharaoh,”_ Bakura interrupted, “ _He’s not some spirit you can talk to and reason with. He’s a fragment of a being. Face it landlord. He can be Marik’s sibling’s problem.”_

_“I don’t want to send him there to be a problem for them! I want to send him there because they would have a better idea of what to do!”_ Marik snapped, yanking the phone back, “ _Look. Ryo, I know I was being a bit… Pushy. But what could you do? I already called my siblings. They’ll be here in a week to pick him up.”_

“Good. Then they’ll be able to see how much progress we made,” Ryo sniffed. His stomach growled in protest, “Hey. Can we talk about this later, I need to order food.”

“ _You can still come have Takoyaki with us,”_ Marik said enticingly. Ryo’s feet shifted together in thought.

“No. I think we’d ruin your date,” he said, “See ya.”

He clicked it off. He sank into the cushions. He half expected a text or another call, but when nothing came, Ryo shut his eyes. 

Marik’s other half. 

 

A fragment of a being.

 

That couldn’t be true.

 

He could be…

 

“Hey.”

Ryo’s eyes snapped open. He quickly sat up and looked to his side. Marik’s other was kneeling next to the couch. Ryo blinked, then looked over to his phone for the time. He fell asleep for almost two hours!

He flopped backwards with grown. After rubbing his eyes, Ryo turned to the blonde, “Sorry. I’m sure you’re hungry now.”

The other Marik stood up, and walked into the kitchen. Ryo sat up and started looking for somewhere that was still open this late at-

He paused. Something smelt. 

His stomach growled again. 

Something smelt good!

Ryo set his phone down and walked into the kitchen. On the table and floor were multiple bags and containers of food now opened up. The other Marik sat in his usually spot, hands in his lap as his eyes stayed trained on the table. The white-haired man stared for a moment longer.

“Did you… Order this?” He asked. The other grunted. Ryo shuffled forward and picked through the first one. Fried noodles, “… How?”

“Marik ordered food when he was here,” he responded, “There wasn’t food on the boat after traveling for months. There was a place where he ordered every meal. For the ghouls.”

Ryo blinked. Marik didn’t come here in a boat. And he definitely didn’t eat _this_ much. Unless… He was talking about Battle City.

“How much do you remember?” Ryo asked lightly.

“All of it,” he said, “Except… Something.”

Ryo raised a brow when he fell silent. Instead of pressing for more questions, Ryo’s stomach lurched again. Feeling himself drool slightly, he sat down on the other side of the table and started to shift through the bags.

He grabbed the container he previous opened. He smelt the noodles again, the spices rich. Ryo didn’t even care how the other had paid for it all, he was hungry! Grabbing one of the forks sticking out of the bag, he quickly started eating without another thought. 

The second he started chewing, Ryo’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head. He choked as he forced himself to swallow, his tongue nearly burning off. The other Marik stared blankly at him.

“Is something wrong?” He asked.

Ryo tripped over his feet to get to the sink. He fumbled for a glass of water, chugging most of it down before gasping for a breath. He panted a few times before answering.

“Y-yeah,” he croaked, “Just a little… Too spicy…”

The other Marik stared at him, then over to the not so innocent noodles. He grabbed Ryo’s abandoned fork and ate a mouthful without hesitation. To Ryo’s horror, he chewed once before swallowing.

“... I don’t taste anything,” he said blankly, licking the side of his mouth. Ryo continued to stare, the sting of wasabi still burning his throat.

If Marik’s other did kill him, it would probably be by mistake.


	3. Questioning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beginning section is a flipped perspective of the previous night (I didn't beta this so rereading and getting a comment about it made me realize that's not clear until the ending part. Oops.)

He stared up at the ceiling. He had counted the amount of time the fan had spun before falling asleep. Maybe he should resume.

 

The vessel in the other room stopped speaking, which meant there would be food soon. 

 

He rose up. He walked to the kitchen, and sat down. There was a clock on the microwave; the only thing moving in here.

 

One. Two. Five. Ten.

 

Fifteen. Thirty. Forty-five.

 

Almost an hour and the vessel hadn’t come back inside the kitchen. He went to the fridge. Postcards and little magnets covered the front of it. There were two of Egypt. Nowhere that Marik had lived.

 

Inside there was a bottle of milk. Two eggs in a carton. Green plants turning brown. 

 

No chickpeas.

 

He trailed into the larger room. The vessel was sleeping on the couch. Did he usually sleep there?

 

Then what would he eat?

 

It didn’t matter. None of it tasted like anything-

 

…

 

Food.

 

The vessel mentioned ordering food.

 

…

 

Marik’s once ordered food.

 

What was the number again?

 

…

 

Phone. He needed the phone. 

 

It was stuck onto the wall, a pale green color. The buttons made a little noise as he pressed them. He listened as the number dialed.

 

_“Hello? Katsuki Barbecue: Favorite Barbecue of Domino as ranked by Kaiba Corp! What will you have?”_

 

Wait. 

 

What did Marik order again? He ordered for all the ghouls on the ship. He ate elsewhere. Did it even matter?

 

_“… Hello?”_

 

Prompted, he automatically repeated the order from memory.

 

“Five of everything on the menu that’s not meat- three of everything that is meat- extra wasabi on half of the orders- Substitute any fish for tuna I don’t care about the cost - Dammit Rishid I feed them enough as is - Tea as the drink I guess black will do - Half ice in all of them-Makes sure everything comes with a dessert - scratch that I want dessert if its the little fish rice cake thing taiyaki thank you Rishid- if you have the spicy red sauce put that on the tuna I think it’ll be funny - put on my card from last time.”

 

The other line was quiet.

 

_“Um… Could you repeat that, more slowly please?”_

 

He repeated the order.

 

“ _Ah. Yes thank you,_ ” the voice said, wavering, “ _Um. You said you ordered from here last time. What was the name?_ ”

 

His name.

 

His name.

 

His name…

 

_“Um… Hello? This better not be a prank again!”_

 

“Namu.”

 

“ _Namu? Just one word? I don’t-oh! There it is! Thank you- ah! You ordered this last time! You could’ve just given me your name. Wait. You haven’t ordered in over four years,_ ” the voice babbled, “ _That’s okay. That’s okay. We are the preferred take out of Kaiba Corp for a reason! Should it be delivered to the same address?”_

 

Address. This wasn’t the ship. Or the dock. Where did the vessel say this was?

 

He looked to the fridge and plucked one of the postcards from it. He turned it over. He recited the full address.

 

_“Um… Thank you?”_ The voice said, “ _I guess it’s good you’re in Domino? I’d be alarmed if not hehe. Um. Will that be all?”_

 

_“_ Yes.”

 

“ _Okay! You’re account from before will be charged. Aaand because of the large order it might take a little longer then usual. We’ll be there in an hour or so! Thank you!”_

 

The receiver clicked. He set the phone back. He shuffled back to the room. He sat on the bed.

 

The clothes were still there. Clothes. 

 

He should put them away like the vessel said. Into the drawers.

 

There were things inside the drawers already. Other clothes and books and board pieces. He shoved the clothes inside with them all still there. As long as they were off the bed.

 

He spotted the glass box sitting on the dresser. He picked it up, the glass slipping off. There were a few figurines. He picked up the one on the top that caught his eye. He saw it everyday, but didn’t bother giving it a closer look.

 

Even in the dark room, he could see how much it resembled the thief. 

 

Wait. No. It didn’t look like the thief. 

 

It looked like the vessel.

 

He traced along the white hair made from carved clay. The paint was faded. There was a chip on its little staff. He noticed little writing on the bottom of it.

 

BZZZZZ

 

The doorbell rang.

 

He shuffled back down the hall. The thief’s vessel still laid on the couch snoring. He set the figurine down and answered the door instead.

 

A girl in a light blue uniform answered, panting heavily. Dozens of bags were piled next to her feet.

 

“Hi hi! Is this the Namu residence?” She asked breathily.

 

“Bakura residence,” he stated. An action he had learned to do after the past few days.

 

She blinked, face falling immediately.

 

“Ah! I’m sorry!” She said, then looked down to the slip of paper in hand, “Then could you point me to apartment room 328B- eh? That’s this address. Um. Did you order all this?”

 

“Yes.”

 

He reached down and grabbed some of the bags. He automatically brought them into the kitchen. He went back for the rest. The delivery girl was still there.

 

“Um. Did you need help?” She asked, eyeing him worriedly, “You uh. Gonna eat all of that on your own- I mean- I’m not saying your chubby! But uh. Eating all this would give you a stomach ache- or are you trying to gain weight…“

 

“I’m not,” he responded, then shut the door. He stood there, then heard her give off an surprised whine. He opened it up. She blinked a few times.

 

“Ah! You-uh. Forgot my tip?” She said, holding a hand up sheepishly.

 

He looked at her hand. A tip. Rishid usually had the tip.

 

He turned to the side. He grabbed the figurine from before. He put it in her hand, and shut the door again.

 

He stood there waiting. When there wasn’t another response, he went to the kitchen. The food smelt of spice, and was warm even through the cheap plastic. 

 

He went to the living room. How was the thief’s vessel still sleeping? He crouched next to him.

 

Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t seen the other this close before. They all avoided him. His hair and skin matched that of the small figurine.

 

He ran his hand along the white locks, feeling how soft they were. It reminded him of something. 

 

Silk. 

 

There was silk down in the tombs that was considered valuable. There were only a few pieces that were used for special occasions. 

 

Marik bought a whole bed spread of silk for his ship. It was also soft, but purple. A lot of purple.

 

He moved his hand away.

 

“Hey.”

 

The vessel didn’t move. He nudged his shoulder.

 

“Hey.”

 

The vessel opened his eyes. He blinked a few times, reached up for his phone, then shot up. With a groan, the white haired man flopped backwards.

 

He went back to the kitchen, sat down in his spot. It took a minute. The vessel eventually showed up. His eyes widened slightly.

 

“Did you… Order this?” He asked. The other grunted, “… How?”

 

“Marik ordered food when he was here. There wasn’t food on the boat after traveling for months. There was a place where he ordered every meal. For the ghouls,"  He explained.

 

The vessel paused, contemplation reflected in his gaze. He took a step forward.

 

“How much do you remember?”

 

…

 

How much did he remember? Memories came back when they needed to. Except…

 

“All of it. Except... Something.”

 

The vessel didn’t press for questions, sitting down across the table. 

 

He sat there staring at the table. What was it that he was missing? If he thought hard enough, he could remember back all the way to Marik studying in the tombs. But something was wrong that he couldn’t quite place.

 

The vessel let out a choked sound. The white haired man stumbled to the sink, gulping down a glass of water with a pained gasp.

 

“Is something wrong?”

 

The vessel shook his head, gasping, “Y-yeah. Just a little… Too spicy…”

 

Spicy? Did Marik eat spicy food? Rishid once made lentils with some kind of pepper that he didn’t like. Maybe that was it.

 

He took a big bite, not bothering to chew in order to get the full taste.

 

But. 

 

It still tasted empty.

 

He lowered the fork.

 

“I don’t taste anything."

 

The white-haired man stared at him, a look that was a strange mix of surprise and confusion.

 

But not fear.

 

Suddenly, the vessel burst into laughter, coughing immediately.

 

“I-I can’t believe Bakura was afraid of you!” He laughed, cheeks and lips growing bright red.

 

It made something stir in his chest.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Sunlight streamed through the curtains, birds chirping outside. Marik cursed from the other room. 

Bakura sighed deeply, and sank more into the warm blankets. He shuddered. Even back in Egypt with nothing but the clothes on his back, he was never this cold! 

Marik cursed again, louder this time.

“Hey! Other people are still sleeping!” Bakura shouted.

“Too bad you’re a nuisance more than a person!” Marik snapped back. Bakura clicked his tongue, eventually slinking out of the bedroom to see what was wrong, taking all the covers with him. He moved slowly through the hall, regretting not having any slippers (or at least nabbing some from Ryo).

Marik was sitting at a desk in the living room, slumped over a laptop. His lips were drawn into a line, brows furrowed deeply. He gripped his mouth in deep thought.

“What’s wrong?”

“There’s something wrong with one of my old accounts. There’s suddenly a large charge on it,” Marik said, then blinked when he saw Bakura, “You better put those back unless you’re planning on doing laundry.”

Bakura stuck his tongue out.

“You should know by now that I don’t clean,” he said, sinking into the couch next to the desk, “Besides. Why do you care about money- don’t you still have all those off-shore accounts from your ghouling days?”

“That’s the problem. It was charged to one that I haven’t used for awhile now. And it was a large amount for somewhere in Domino,” Marik said, turning the laptop for Bakura to see. Weirdly, it was for some barbecue place on the other side of town.

“You don’t eat barbecue.”

“That’s what I thought,” Marik said, turning it back, “But then I remembered the name. That was a place I ordered from when I first got to Domino. Back during Battle City.”

Bakura raised a brow. Battle city. Seemed too coincidental.

Marik slid the chair back with a sigh, “Ah well. I’ll figure it out later. Anyway I have work, you made me lunch right?”

Bakura sank more into his pile of blanket as Marik walked back to their room.

“By the way,” Marik called from the back, “Can you go check up on Ryo today? I’m gonna be late as is.”

Bakura sighed. He knew that excuse, but he wasn’t going to force Marik’s hand. The blonde didn’t want anything to do with that killer wearing his face. And encountering him like last time wouldn’t do anything, except maybe get the neighbors attention (which, if Ryo was lying dead in his apartment, was going to happen anyway), “Fine fine. I guess I will.”

Minutes later, Marik was all dressed and primed for the day. He went to the little kitchen, the door to the fridge opening. There was a pause that made Bakura sink into the fluffy duvet.

“… Bakura,” he huffed, “You didn’t make lunch did you?”

“Just go out to eat, you can afford it,” Bakura grumbled. The fridge door slammed. Marik marched out, grabbing his bag as he did.

“Fine. Then I’m taking my wallet with me,” he said before Bakura could protest, “Have fun eating spinach and chickpeas all day skinny!”

The door slammed shut. Bakura frowned deeply, pulling the covers over his face in an attempt to block out the light.

“… I hate chickpeas.”

After what was probably an hour, Bakura rose from his nest, needing a piss. He yawned as he crept into the bathroom. He gazed up at the mirror sitting above the sink. 

His hair wasn’t as thick or short as it once was, now flopping against his shoulders a bit like when he possessed Ryo (although Ryo’s hair was probably more shinier). His skin, once a rich copper hue like Marik’s, was now slightly pallid. The scar under his eye seemed even more pronounced against his cheek bone that stuck out from his sunken in cheeks. Even his once proud body that had lean muscles from years of running and fighting were reduced to thin limbs.

Not exactly the image of a king. 

Bakura scoffed. He could work on that later after lunch. He relieved himself and went for the shower, immediately shivering after a few minutes under the water. As soon as he was done heretreated back to his blankets still sopping wet.

(Marik would do laundry later anyway. Probably.)

He half slept like that for a few minutes longer before his phone started to buzz. Bakura groaned, then decided to slump on the floor over to the table where it sat. He laid on his side as he glanced at the screen. It was Ryo.

His hand shook slightly, but he forced it away. He shouldn’t be worried though, especially over someone like Ryo. He was a ditz, but a clever one. Besides, why should he be worried about his previous vessel that had turned against him during-

 

During.

 

Hold on…

 

…

 

What _did_ Ryo do again? 

Why couldn’t he remember all of a sudden?

Bakura’s phone vibrated again in his hand. The message was still blinking on the screen. Reluctantly, he opened it.

“ _Come over as soon as you can?”_

That was all he needed. 

The thief threw himself out of the cocoon of blankets and ran out the door. One of the old ladies he ran past let out a shriek at the sight of him. He ignored the urge to curse at her crusty bum, and instead slid down the stairs and dashed down the hall to Ryo’s door.

He banged his fist against it. Footsteps thumped from the other side and the door swung open.

Ryo answered, cheeks and lips swollen and red. He gave a smile.

“Hi Bakura,” he said. Bakura’s eye twitched at his (somewhat) unharmed landlord. He recognized what happened to the white-haired man when he inhabited the body, but asked anyway.

“What happened.”

“I… Might’ve eaten too much spicy food last night,” Ryo sighed. He held up five large bags of food, “Do you think you could take this? It’s barbecue.”

Bakura blinked a few times, numbly taking the bags. The name ‘Katsuki was embellished on them. He suddenly remembered the screen Marik showed him.

Ah. That explained it.

“Um…”

He looked up, Ryo facing away from him with a quirk on his lips.

“Uh. Bakura,” he said, “Why are you naked?”

The thief paused, feeling a sudden chill go up his backside. 

Oh. Ya.

Bakura folded his arms together, “Just got out of the shower.”

A cold wind went through the hall. The thief shuddered horribly.

“If you wanted to run around nude you could do that at a hot spring, “Ryo muttered, ushering him in before any of the neighbors came out. Ryo led him to the living room, and threw a pair of pants at him.

Bakura looked down at the other bags, seeing an assortment of clothes inside. He let out a scoff.

“What? Don’t think I’m decent enough for society?”

“No. I just think you’ll like having clothes that actually fit you,” Ryo smirked, “Besides, it’s going to get cold in a few weeks. And I doubt Marik has anything in your size.”

That was true. Marik hadn’t even taken him shopping for clothes yet.

Bakura took the bag, peeking inside. There were more sweatpants, along with some shirts and a jacket. However, there was one thing inside that wasn’t new. It took him a moment, but Bakura recognized the dark leather. He pulled it out, letting the bag drop to the ground.

The bottom dragged against the wood floor. It felt heavier for some reason. And even under the cheap apartment lights, it shone as he turned it in hand. He remembered nabbing this in a store for the final battle against the pharaoh. He even wore it when he saw-

 

When he saw…

 

Someone… In an alley…

 

“Bakura?”

The thief looked up. Ryo was looking at him with a raised brow, “Is there something wrong?”

He let out a sigh, fingers brushing against the worn cloth, “… You don’t have to give me this.”

“N-No. It’s not really my style,” Ryo said, rubbing his cheek, “Besides, you’re going to need a jacket in a few weeks.”

Bakura’s lip twitched, and looked back to the black overcoat. For some reason, he couldn’t see himself wearing this now. Before, of course he wanted it. He needed to be intimidating (and Ryo’s pastel sweaters hardly did that). 

But now, it just seemed… Tacky.

“Nah. You can have it,” Bakura scoffed, throwing it onto the couch, “I think we can all agree black isn’t really my color right now.”

“You don’t exactly have a lot of color in general right now,” Ryo said, “You might want to go walk around the block a few times. Or go with Marik on his weekend jogs.”

Bakura rolled his eyes, “Yeah. Exercise by choice. That’s _really_ something I would do.”

“You did when you lived in my body.”

“That’s because I couldn’t afford to faint from five minutes of running thanks to your basement goblin body!”

Ryo started laughing again. He stopped when there was a ‘thump’ in the back room. Bakura tensed immediately.

“I should go,” he said, picking up all the bags again and retreating to the door. Ryo followed close behind him.

“You sure? Don’t want to share some leftovers for breakfast?”

“With you and the psycho? No thank you,” Bakura frowned, “Besides, I have some work to do.”

Despite knowing that was a lie, Ryo simply waved bye to him. Now that he stood in the hallway, Bakura started shivering again.

He stared at the door for a moment more, suddenly going deep in thought. He had remembered things before he had come back. Why was he suddenly finding it hard? 

The bags in his hands started feeling heavier.

Bakura shrugged his shoulders, slumping back to the apartment. Whatever was going on was probably nothing. He chalked it up to needing more sleep.

 

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

He sat at the table while the vessel was still outside. He heard the thief before, but hardly found any point in actually speaking to him. 

 

The vessel came back in and sighed. When he came into the kitchen he jumped slightly.

 

“Oh! You’re awake,” he said, “Um… We still don’t have anything to make breakfast, so we can just have some leftovers for now.”

 

He nodded. The vessel set out to taking some plates out and filling them with some of the food from yesterday. He put one in the microwave, tapping his foot against the floor. Every few seconds he cast a glance over.

 

“I gave half of the leftovers to Bakura. I figured he could use the extras to gain a few pounds,” He said, then paused, “So uh… How’re you doing?”

 

This was different. None of them tries to converse with him for very long.

 

“Hungry.”

 

“Oh. Of course! But uh. Like, how do you _feel_ this morning?”

 

“I don’t.”

 

The vessel raised a brow. He shrugged his shoulders. The microwave went off. The vessel replaced the plate with another. His fingers hovered over the number pad before turning around,  “What do you mean?

 

“I. Just don’t.”

 

It had become apparent the second he came back to this world. He couldn’t feel anything.

 

The vessel shifted from foot to foot again,“Do you know why?”

 

He knew why. Some of the memories were splotched in his mind, but he knew. He gave it all up to come back. Before he could respond, the vessel piped up again.

 

“Well. There’s no rush to answer me,” he said with a smile, pressing the button on the microwave,  “Just wanting to get to know you a bit better.”

 

Something stirred in his chest again.

 

After both plates were done, the vessel brought them over and sat down. The vessel took a large bite.

 

“Is it…” He paused, “Spicy?”

 

“No. I gave those ones to Bakura,” the white-haired man responded, “My lips are still stinging from last night so. That’s not something I’d like to go through a second time.”

 

He nodded, poking at the shrimp sitting on his plate.

 

“I’m Ryo.” 

 

He looked up. The vessel was looking at him with a smile.

 

“I… Figured now that we’re making an effort to talk more openly, I might as well introduce myself. I doubt Bakura did so properly during-“

 

“Our duel,” he said, “He didn’t have to. I know everything that Marik does.”

 

The vessel blinked, then shrunk back to his plate, “Oh. Well. You can call me Ryo.”

 

He nodded, then started eating some of the cucumber.

 

Faintly, he could taste bitterness.

 

“By the way,” Ryo said, “How’d you pay for all this?”

 

“Marik ordered food for the Ghouls. The ones he didn’t brainwash still needed to eat,” he responded, “The one on the phone from the restaurant said they charged an account he used.”

 

“I see. We’ll probably have to tell Marik about that,” Ryo said, the slightest twitch of his lips that almost looked like a smirk, “Oh. That would explain how you got it delivered. You didn't have to pay upfront.”

 

“I didn’t have a tip for the delivery girl,” he said, “I gave her a figurine.”

 

Ryo didn’t respond.

 

He looked up. Ryo was staring at him with a blank look.

 

“You. Gave the deliver girl. One of my figurines.” Ryo said slowly.

 

“Yes.”

 

Ryo’s hand was shaking.

 

For some reason, that made him feel… Weird.

 

Ryo stopped, letting out an unsteady sigh before poking at his food again. 

 

“Oh. T-that’s okay. I’ve got plenty of them,” Ryo waved, “I’m sure I could just make another anyway. Which one was it? One of the dragons? A warrior?”

 

“The little white one,” he reply, “The one that looks like you.”

 

A fork dropped on the floor. He glanced up. Ryo was staring blankly at him. His brows quickly furrowed, eyes growing wide.

 

And his hand stopped trembling.

 

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

No.

There’s no way he-

Ryo, as calmly as he could, stood up from the table and walked into the hall. He hurried to his old room without realizing it.

He flicked on the light. The desk! All his figurines were on the desk. Frantically, he shifted through the ones on top. No.

Ryo dug into the drawers. Craft supplies. No.

He remembered the ones he kept on his dresser. Slowly, he turned and saw the five still sitting there under the glass case.

Only five.

There, missing on the spot towards the top. His white mage piece that had once housed a piece of his very soul was gone. Ryo blinked, hoping that maybe he had just imagined that whole conversation with the other Marik. His hands hovered uselessly in the air, desperately trying to piece together if he had taken it out or put it somewhere else. But he knew the other Marik hadn’t lied.

It was gone. Handed off without a single care. Ryo fell to his knees.

“Ryo?”

The other Marik was standing in the doorway. Ryo bit his lip. He couldn’t bring himself to look at him. He swallowed deeply.

“Can you… Leave me alone for a little bit,” he said as steadily as he could.

“Your food will get cold.”

Ryo shook his head. His voice choked up in his throat. Ryo’s hands dug onto the edge of the dresser, his teeth digging into his lip.

“Ryo. Your food-"

“I said go away!”

Ryo could tell the other Marik hadn’t moved. Breathing as steadily as he could, he looked over to the hallway.

The other Marik was standing there, except he seemed legitimately surprised by the outburst. He gripped his chest, and slowly shut the door. 

Ryo buried his face into his sleeve, smearing tears into the cream fabric. He didn’t think he’d cry over something so mundane. But. Out of all the figurines, of course it had to be the one with the most memories.

After a long minute, Ryo took a deep breath. Then another. He needed to get it together! The other Marik was probably sitting outside the door right now. 

He wiped his eyes the best he could before getting up. He cracked the door open slightly, but the other Marik was nowhere in sight. That made the empty feeling in his stomach drop more for some reason. Ryo sighed deeply, set on smothering his face into his pillow for a few minutes.

That was, before he heard the apartment open. 

Ryo’s breath hitched. A eerie silent stretched throughout the apartment. He threw the bedroom door open, and ran through the hallway. He froze when he saw the door ajar. The other Marik was nowhere in sight.

Uh oh.


	4. Sad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should point out that time doesn’t seem to work coherently for this writing, if only because all the characters are doing something different at the same time. The only section in here that’s a little different is Marik’s which starts up a little after the beginning of the last chapter (it’ll be obvious when).

Oh no no no no!

He lost him! Somehow he lost him!

Ryo swallowed hard, staring at the open door. He took a few tentative steps, then ran out. He looked over the railing, hair blowing in the faint wind. Looking towards the gate, he saw a flash of blonde hair above the gate. He held his breath.

Then the blonde bolted down the street and was gone before he knew it.

“Shit!”

Shoving on his shoes and grabbing his keys as fast as he could, Ryo practically flew down the stairs. He would probably look insane running through the street with tear streaks on his face and shoes not even laced up, but now wasn’t the time to worry about that! Ryo abruptly stopped when he went down two flights.

“Bakura!” He gasped. He looked back up the staircase. On one hand, he could use the extra body to help find the other Marik just in case. But on the other, Ryo could find him if he hurried!

(Not to mention how Bakura would use this as an opportunity to shove the other Marik off onto the first plane to Egypt).

Ryo shook his head, and continued down the stairs. When he got to the street, he started running down the direction he saw the other go. By the time he got to the end of the block, he was out of breath.

“Damn… Maybe _I_ need to go running with Marik,” he panted. He looked to his phone, only ten minutes have gone by. That’s nothing to panic too much over…

He debated on texting Bakura, if only to just keep an eye out in case the other Marik came back. There was a good chance that the other Marik was maybe just flustered at what happened and just needed some air…

Eventually, Ryo decided it wouldn’t hurt too much to send a vague enough message to Bakura, just to keep him in the loop.

“ _Went grocery shopping. Be sure to check on the other Marik while I’m gone.”_

Ryo bit his lip. Yes. If the other Marik came back by the time Bakura checked, then it wouldn’t seem suspicious. And if he was still gone, then he could blame it on Bakura.

(Ryo could be clever when he needed to).

Still, that wouldn’t help too much with his current situation. He looked around, realizing how fast the other Marik had gone to be able to get out of eyesight.

Where could he be? Was he trying to find Marik? Yugi? Maybe Jou or Kaiba? He didn’t know where any of them were. But then again, he remembered things from Battle City. With what Bakura and Marik said about the other, there was a good chance that he had known everything that Marik had up to this point about them all.

But. Ryo couldn’t see him silently plotting a revenge and only now deciding to act.

Ryo started running again, taking a quick breath at the intersection. There was hardly anyone around at the moment, so asking people if they had seen the other Marik wasn’t an option really. 

He took another steadying breath. The other Marik couldn’t have gone very far since he probably didn’t know this part of the city. Ryo could probably survey a few streets if he was fast enough.

When the light turned green, he hesitated before shaking his head. No. He couldn’t afford to wander blindly. He needed to think carefully.

Ryo looked around. This part of town wasn’t very populated, mostly just residential places and small shops. If the other remembered things that Marik did, then he would’ve gone to somewhere that was more lively. Probably somewhere that Yugi or Jou had dueled-

Wait. 

 

“…”

 

Ryo blinked a few times in deep thought. When he was watching Jou duel the whole day, there was a strange feeling he had in the back of his mind. He wasn’t sure at the time, but Ryo half knew that it had to do with the Millennium Items.

 

And this other Marik was probably relying on memory.

 

And Marik was able to see all of his ghouls by the harbor all the way through the park with the mime!

 

Which meant-

Ryo looked up, realizing he took a wrong street and backtracked a few blocks. He had probably been running for twenty minutes, but that was plenty of time! Especially if his hunch was right.

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

Oh. 

 

Something was wrong. 

 

He couldn’t tell why, but something was wrong.

 

The vessel, Ryo, was crouched down next to the dresser. There were bright tears now pouring down his face.

 

Ryo turned away.

 

“Just. Leave me alone.”

 

Obliging to the request, he shut the door. 

 

…

 

He stood there, listening to the soft sobs coming from the other side. 

 

It sounded like Ryo was trying hard to suppress them but was failing.

 

…

 

Marik cried.

 

Marik cried because of his birthday.

 

Marik cried when he saw what happened to Rishid.

 

Marik cried when his father was dead.

 

…

 

Ryo never cried.

 

Ryo always smiled in the morning. 

 

Always laughed at the movies on the tv. 

 

Always made fun of Bakura without actually meaning it.

 

…

 

Ryo cried just now.

 

Because he had given that figurine away.

 

Because…

 

…

 

…

 

He didn’t know why. But.

 

There was a twist in his stomach.

 

Seeing Ryo crying was.

 

Different.

 

…

 

…

 

He needed to make Ryo stop. 

 

The girl. He needed to find that delivery girl. He could find the barbecue place.

 

It was near the docks. That was why Marik ordered from them.

 

Door.

 

Outside.

 

Stairs.

 

Gate.

 

Streets. No one was around. It was morning still. Where could the docks be? Marik used the rod to find everything he needed. 

 

Think. Map. Picture everything. 

 

The docks were near the pier. There was an aquarium. Further down was the park and the tall building where the pharaoh and Kaiba dueled.

 

…

 

Down the street. Two. Three. 

 

Back ways. Marik drove through the alleys.

 

No one was around.

 

…

 

…

 

He saw the square where the clock was. 

 

Now everything was starting to piece together clearer.

 

He wasn’t that far now.

 

…

 

…

 

“Hey! Mister!”

 

A guy with a smug look on his face, leaning against the wall.

 

“You seem to be lost right now. Ya need some help?”

 

Ignore.

 

“Hold it there!”

 

A hand clapped against his shoulder. He stopped. He turned around.

 

“C’mon man. I’m just here to help! You don’t look like you’re from around here!”

 

He could tell there were more in the alley, trying to hide. Marik made the ghouls do that to steal rare cards.

 

“I don’t have any rare cards.”

 

The other guy raised a brow in confusion.

 

He turned to leave. The other ones came out of hiding.

 

“No. No. You got me wrong there,” the guy said, hooking his arm around his shoulders, “I’m just here to help out a lost tourist-“

 

“I’m not a tourist.”

 

“A foreigner then! I can tell by the accent,” The guy said. He had a piercing on his brow, “Look. All I’m saying is that you need help and I can point you in the right direction. Someone of you stature could use a few extra guys around, this place can get rough.”

 

“I’m looking for Katsuki Barbecue.”

 

The three men exchanged confused looks. He noticed one of them was short.

 

“Well. I’m sure we can find it for you!” The one holding his shoulders said, leading down the alley, “But. I heard that place is pretty pricey… You must have a good chunk of coin to be able to afford to go there.”

 

“I need to talk to the delivery girl.”

 

The guy quirked a brow, “Oh? A lovers spat? I can get that-”

 

As they came to the end of the alley that turned into a smaller street, he turned to the right.

 

“Woah there,” the guy said, arm still around his shoulders, “We need to go this way if you want to get to-“

 

He held up a hand, “It’s this way.”

 

The man raised a brow, “I thought you were a foreigner.”

 

“I’ve been here before.”

 

The hand tightened on his shoulder. The others started to circle.

 

“I think you’re mistaken.“

 

“But. It’s this way-”

 

Suddenly, something hit the back of his legs. He pitched backwards. He hit the ground. Hands and arms were on him before he could react.

 

“Quick! Check his wallet!”

 

“I got his legs!”

 

“I got his arms!”

 

“Wait…” They all stopped, mostly realizing he was just lying there. They all looked confused when they pulled out his pockets, “There’s nothing here.”

 

They all looked to him.

 

“I don’t have any money.”

 

…

 

The lead clicked his tongue in annoyance, promptly getting up.

 

“C’mon! Foreigners with no cash aren’t worth our time-”

 

A shout came from behind them all. A bike flew through the air. It smacked the leader in the face and he fell. They all stared then looked to the source of the shout.

 

“Oi! You thugs better not be harassing anyone!”

 

He knew who that was. He remembered that face, even through the uniform and shadows of the alley. He remembered everything from battle city.

 

“This doesn’t concern you!” One of the thugs said, “Besides. What’re you gonna do? Give us a speeding ticket-“

 

Lights flashed. Suddenly, a monster appeared in a flash of light.

 

He recognized that. It was a duel disk. Except this was different. There was something more… Real about it.

 

“You’re forgetting who you’re up against!” The blonde exclaimed, “I may be a bike cop, but I’m also the top regional champ! So you best step off before I wipe the streets with you!”

 

One of the thugs helped the leader up. The other growled.

 

“You can’t fool us!” He exclaimed, “Duels don’t mean crap in the street-“

 

In two short seconds, the other thug was being punched in an uppercut.

 

"Then it's a good thing I'm good at both kinds of fighting!"

 

…

 

He still sat there on the ground, watching as the pharaoh’s friend started throwing them all around the alley.

 

…

 

Marik ordered his ghouls to do the same thing. Only. This guy wasn’t demanding for cards or money. It looked like he was beating them up because he needed to.

 

…

 

The thugs ran out of the alley as fast as they could.

 

“J-Just wait until we report you!”

 

“Go ahead! It wouldn’t be the first time I was fired!” The blonde shouted, “It’s not like Kaiba cares anyway!”

 

The alley was void. Except for the two. The blonde went over and offered a hand.

 

“Sorry about all that! They probably got away with whatever you had didn’t they,” he said, “Sorry.”

 

He stared, seeing the differences from his memory and how the other actually looked now. It was jarring, for some reason.

 

“I’m Jounouchi,” the blonde said, then puffed up his chest, “But you’ve probably heard of me from the tournaments! Been making my way around the duelist circuit for years now! Finally got up to the regionals!”

 

"…"

 

He stood up, ignoring the outstretched hand. He looked at the uniform again.

 

“They said you were a bike cop.”

 

Jou’s cheeks went red, “W-Well. That’s just something I do in my spare time! And if you do governmental work, Kaiba Corp tech comes with the job!”

 

Jou looked to the duel disk on his arm. Definitely different from the one during battle city.

 

“And I can’t seem to nail a sponsorship since they’re all owned by Kaiba Corp. And that crook Kaiba doesn’t exactly make things cheap around here. Even if they are required to be a citizen- wait.”

 

Jou gave him an up down look. His brows furrowed in deep thought. He snapped his fingers.

 

“You kinda look like this guy I know… I guess you are a foreigner,” he said, then looked to his arm, “You don’t have a duel disk or a deck.”

 

Of course he didn’t. Marik didn’t keep anything from Battle City. He torched it all the second he got back to Egypt. 

 

He couldn’t keep any evidence.

 

“W-Well. That’s okay! I bet those thugs probably took them. I’ll get ‘em back!” Jou quickly said, “Besides. It’s not like everyone is required to carry them around or anything. It was really just something Kaiba came up with in case he ran into Yugi on the street- Oh! You’ve probably heard of him! He’s my best pal and the King of Games. _The_ King of Games-“

 

Ignore.

 

“H-Hey! Wait! You need any help?” Jou asked, hurrying and picking up his bike.

 

“No. I know where I’m going.”

 

“Alright then! I’m sure I’ll see you around!” Jou shouted from the alley, “Oh! What’s you’re name?”

 

…

 

…

 

…

 

He needed to find it.

 

He was close to the docks now. The wind was starting to pick up.

 

…

 

There was a numbness that still ran up his arms and legs from sitting in that alley. It had always been there since he reentered this world. But it seemed different for some reason.

 

...

 

...

 

…

 

And yet, his chest still twisted from the thought of Ryo crying.

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

The door was shut tight, with all the other workers busing themselves on the other side. Marik hardly paid much attention. He was too fixated on the screens in front of him. A couple showed the streets downtown, but most were fixated on the apartment building he shared with Ryo.

Marik laughed to himself. Only Kaiba would create such a vast network of surveillance and have Kaiba Corp workers have plenty of access. Sure he wasn’t part of that division, but he could be persuasive when he needed to be.

Moreover, he needed the reassurance that his shadow wasn’t running around the city murdering everyone.

The phone started to beep, he ignored it. Whoever it was could stay on hold for the secretary to get. It wasn’t like they really needed him there anyway. He could easily work from home, although it wouldn’t give him nearly as many eyes to watch that killer in the downstairs apartment. And the second he did something wrong Marik could send out the police force.

(It wasn’t like Kaiba would notice).

Although, today didn’t feel quite at ease. For some reason Marik felt on edge, as if it were the calm before the storm.

Bakura suddenly burst out of the apartment. Marik nearly choked. Not because he was surprised, but how ridiculous it was to see the thief running bare ass naked through the openhalls. Marik burst out into laughter.

Of course, he stopped as soon as Bakura started banging his fists against Ryo’s door. He grew tense when a minute passed by. Eventually, Ryo answered, the two speaking before the thief was hurried inside. Marik relaxed.

He rewound the tape and started taking screenshots.

“…”

Despite all the antics, he still didn’t like this. 

Letting that darker personality stay in domino. He should’ve known better, or at least should’ve tried to bring Bakura back while he was in Egypt instead. At least Isis and Rishid would be able to take care off their problem.

… But it wasn’t like he missed the thief back then-

Bakura appeared from doorway, carrying a few bags. This time he was dressed. Marik made a little noise of realization. That’s right! He was supposed to get Bakura clothes. Given the amount of time he spent in the apartment, however, it wasn’t like he _needed_ clothes.

(Marik made a note to go shopping after work anyway.)

As Bakura made his way back into the apartment, all was quiet again. Marik leaned back in his chair.

The phone beeped again. Marik bit the inside of his cheek, not really in the mood to speak to someone. The door knocked.

“Ishtar-san?” 

“What is it?” He said annoyed.

“Well. The call is from Otogi-san from the Dungeon Dice Monsters division,” the secretary said, “Should I put him on hold, or shall I speak to-.”

“I’ll call him back myself,” Marik interrupted, “Now go back to fixing that lipstick smudge on your teeth or something.”

The secretary’s cheeks grew red before closing the door softly. Marik rolled his eyes, looking to the phone. He raised his hand, then set it back down. Nope. Still didn’t feel like talking to anyone.

His eyes went back to the screens. For some reason, Ryo was standing outside his apartment door. At first he didn’t see why, but movement outside the gate made Marik freeze.

It was his shadow!

He was out of the apartment!

Everything seemed to stop as the scene sank in.

His hand flew to the phone.

 

…

 

His eyes lingered on the shadow, watching as he hurried along through the streets without much thought. Or at least it seemed that way at first. He jerked and moved as if he were being guided along blindly. 

Marik pulled up a map, trying to figure out where he could be heading.

“He’s probably going to find me or Yuugi,” he muttered under his breath, shakiness going through his hands. He grabbed his wrist, trying his hardest to keep calm.

It wasn’t like before.

 

It wasn’t like battle city.

 

That thing couldn’t force him back.

 

It wouldn’t force him back!

 

Another flash of moment on another screen caught his eye. Marik looked up. It was Ryo.

The white-haired man was running along the streets. He definitely didn’t know where he was going. Marik’s hand flew back to the phone to call him.

He paused again. 

 

“…”

 

If Ryo didn’t find his darker personality, then it wouldn’t be their problem anymore. He could easily let this play out.

After all, he didn’t _need_ to do anything necessarily…

As long as it didn’t come after him it would be fine. Right?

Marik leaned over and looked over towards the secretary, who was on the phone was probably taking up all his calls.

He leaned back in his seat. Well. The least he could do was watch for the rest of the day and see how things played out.


	5. Guilt

Pier.

 

He was at the pier.

 

Except.

 

It wasn’t the right one.

 

He stood there on the edge of the stone pavement. The water was crashing against it, the wind starting to stir.

 

His shoulders sank. The ship that Marik had used wasn’t docked at this one. 

 

But he remembered this pier.

 

He walked down towards the stone steps. There was a wooden dock, metal frames above. It looked like it was used for the larger ships. Or it should’ve been. The metal was rusted and old, the wood creaking under his feet. There weren’t even any ships around this part.

 

He didn’t expect there to be any.

 

After all, Marik wanted to make sure no body was around to interrupt the pharaoh’s duel.

 

…

 

He started walking along towards the middle.

 

It was deep.

 

Very deep.

 

…

 

He squinted. The outline of something large was at the bottom. It was an anchor. Probably just as rusted and old as the rest of the frame.

 

If some tried, they could probably reach it.

 

…

 

He sat down, legs crossed. Staring down.

 

Down. 

 

Down.

 

Down.

 

…

 

In some other life, there was probably a body or two still rotting down there.

 

…

 

He wondered. If Marik felt bad for what happened. During Battle City.

 

…

 

He didn’t.

 

He knew that it was necessary.

 

All of it.

 

The duels.

 

The cards.

 

The ghouls.

 

The alternate identities.

 

…

 

But.

 

…

 

…

 

What was the point of. 

 

Of.

 

…

 

He wanted to ask Marik but…

 

…

 

He looked to his hands. He dipped one into the water. He pulled it out, flexing his fingers.

 

…

 

Still numb.

 

He looked up when the wind started to howl through the metal. Clouds were on the horizon.

 

“It’s going to rain."

 

…

 

…

 

It rained. In Egypt. 

 

Marik didn’t like it. It made the tombs and halls even darker. The thunder that crashed and rain that poured made it miserable for them all. 

 

The first thing Marik did when he turned away from his duties was step out into the rain. Openly. In some country with fields of green. It was different to be out in the middle of a storm then be hidden away and be forced to fear what he couldn’t see.

 

…

 

Marik liked it. 

 

But.

 

Marik liked the water after being kept in the heat. Forced to feel the burning sun.

 

What was the point.

 

Marik liked a lot of things after escaping.

 

He wanted to know.

 

…

 

…

 

…

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

Ryo’s lungs were burning. It had started going into the afternoon by the time he reached the more familiar parts of where Battle City took place.

(How Yuugi managed to run around all day was beyond him).

He looked up. The aquarium was nearby. Just a little bit down the street and in view. Alright. There was one familiar part…

Yeah. Jou had been following the beacon built into the duel disk. It led him here, and it was right after Haga’s duel. And then-

…

He stood there staring at it. Ryo’s memory was more fuzzy around here for some reason. 

In fact, everything past Jou’s duel never seemed quite right at all. As if he were there but was more of a spectator. But that couldn’t be true. Because Jou’s duel was… It was…

His brows furrowed, unconsciously rubbing his arm.

Ryo shook his head, then started to look around. There were now a decent amount of people out, wandering through the shops and park area. He ignored them, wandering along towards the further end of the pier.

“Maybe…”

He found the docks where the smaller tourist ships were. Quite a few were already gone and out on the waters. A lot of the docks were left empty.

Ryo crept along towards one of the smaller ones. His feet scraped against the concrete, almostas if he were doing it automatically.

“…”

It was strange. He knew this place, for some reason. Vaguely, there were voices he could hear, speaking about something here. About the Millennium Items…

He walked along the stone, stopping at the edge. The sea breeze was chilled, even with the sun shining above. He drew his sweater closer up his face. As he stared down into the water, for some reason, he could still hear those voices in the distance.

 

Who’s voice was that…

 

Marik’s…?

 

_“Make your decision, or you won’t be walking off this pier!”_

 

He gripped his arm again.

 

“…”

 

He shook the chill away. He needed to focus after all!

Ryo looked around. There had to be somewhere else that Marik had been. He came there by boat, so this was one of the few places that the other Marik could’ve gone. Then again, Ryocould always go towards the stadium that the blimp had shown up in. 

But. Why would the other Marik even go there? Kaiba specifically chose that place because nothing was around it. And Ryo doubted there’d be anything useful there anyway. Maybe he’d have to own up and ask Marik about it.

(He could always blame it on Bakura).

Ryo started walking back to the main street when suddenly- 

“…”

He stopped.

There was something else. Something _here_.

Faintly. It was as if there were a tug- no. A tap. A feeling of a strange familiarity that kept prickling on the edge of his mind. 

Ryo looked up. He noticed that the wind was dying down slightly. On the horizon he could tell that there was a storm approaching, and would probably be at Domino by the end of the day. Still, that didn’t keep anyone from loitering about. And it didn’t drive away that uneasiness. What could-

He jerked when his phone started ringing. 

Ryo checked. It was Bakura. He hesitated before tapping the answer button.

“Hello?”

“… _Ryo. You said that the psycho was in the apartment still right?”_

“Y-yeah. That’s where I left him,” Ryo said, fumbling his sleeve, “Why. Did… Something happen?”

“ _…”_

His lips quirked, “Bakura?”

“ _Well…”_

Ryo could tell Bakura wasn’t wanting to admit something was wrong. It wasn’t in his nature. 

“ _… No. It’s nothing. Nevermind.”_

_“_ Are you sure? It sounds like something happened. You wouldn’t lie to me would you?”

Bakura grumbled on the other side, probably hating how direct Ryo was being.

“ _How about you just hurry up and come back. Taking forever with your dawdling.”_

He hung up immediately. Ryo raised a brow before sighing. Should’ve expected as much. He sent a message back to Bakura.

‘Well. Tell me what was wrong when you feel like it. Otherwise I’ll be back soon.’

Ryo paused before sending. Yep. No suspicions yet. And Marik was probably still at work, so there was still time before he started asking questions that would lead to mass panic.

(At least between the three of them).

He turned and looked back to the dock one last time before hurrying along the edge. He had a feeling that he was getting close. He just needed to keep going.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

He couldn’t find it.

 

As hard as he tried, he couldn’t find it.

 

…

 

Up and down the streets. 

 

Through the alleys.

 

He ended up in front of a building he remembered, but it wasn’t the right one. It couldn’t be. Even though it was in the place he remembered, this wasn’t the restaurant. 

 

Before. There were bright windows. A steam coming from the door that smelt of strong spice. Neon lights shone out when it was nighttime, unnaturally making the air glow orange and pink.

 

This building was. Empty.

 

He could see through the windows. There was dust. It must’ve been empty for awhile. He looked around, hoping that maybe there was a sign or something that would show him the way.

 

…

 

…

 

…

 

There was none. 

 

And.

 

Eventually, he walked back to the pier. 

 

What could he do. He wasn’t sure what could be done. 

 

He could search more, but obviously his memories were flawed.

 

There wasn’t anyone there that could help him.

 

There. 

 

Wasn’t.

 

Anyone.

 

…

 

…

 

…

 

The wind was going down slightly, but obviously that was because the clouds were starting to rise.

 

He kept walking along the edge, the bottoms of his feet scraping along the pavement. They prickled slightly, but not a lot. 

 

He stopped, noticing his toe was red. He leaned down. It was bleeding.

 

“…”

 

He sat on the ledge, dipping his foot in the salty water. He remembered Marik doing that when he first saw the ocean. 

 

Marik liked it.

 

…

 

He flexed his toes, small ripples appearing on the surface.

 

…

 

He jumped in. 

 

Water splashed up against the dock.

 

…

 

…

 

…

 

The water tingled. 

 

His body still felt numb against it, but there was something strange about the weightlessness. Almost… Familiar.

 

He was surrounded by gray, darkness below. 

 

He looked up to see light, trickling down from the surface. 

 

…

 

He floated like that. The waves still stirred his body along. Almost as if he could stay like that and be lulled to sleep.

 

But…

 

…

 

He ended up back on the surface, staring up at the sky.

 

That’s right.

 

Now he remembered. 

 

Floating.

 

Floating.

 

Floating.

 

Just like in Marik’s mind.

 

Bobbing aimlessly along in the dark. Waiting. Never able to move. Never able to do anything.

 

Only when he could see the light coming back. He had to seize it for his own.

 

Force himself towards it. Feeling the control slipping over him like a cloak.

 

There was no other way. 

 

He wanted to.

 

He needed to.

 

…

 

This was… Like that.

 

But.

 

Even after he came to the surface. There wasn’t anything on the other side of that light.

 

There was no other body to control. Nothing for him to seize. No sense of feeling alive. He might as well sink.

 

Sink.

 

Back down.

 

Towards…

 

…

 

Then.

 

Without any announcement.

 

The vessel was there. 

 

Ryo.

 

Looking down at him from the dock.

 

“…”

 

“…”

 

They stared at each other. He leaned upright in the water. Ryo was on the edge on his knees, hovering over. The tear streaks were still there, but his eyes weren’t as dismayed. There was the slightest bit of panic, but that was different.

 

He climbed back onto the pavement. He sat on the ledge, feet still in the water. Ryo was silent for awhile.

 

“… You alright?”

 

He turned to the white-haired man.

 

“You uh. Ran out of the apartment,” Ryo said, “Um… Were. You feel alright?”

 

“I don’t feel,” he said blankly, looking down into the water, “It doesn’t hurt. Nothing does.”

 

Ryo blinked a few times, brows furrowing in confusion. 

 

He shifted his shoulders.

 

“Then… Uh. Was there, a reason why you left the apartment?” Ryo asked, “Did. Was. Did I do something wrong?”

 

He sighed deeply. The lurching in his chest was back. He dug his nails into it.

 

“I need to find that delivery girl,” he stated, “The restaurant is by the harbor where Marik docked his boat. That was the only reason he ordered from them. But.”

 

He shook his head, “They. They moved. I think. I don’t know where the delivery girl could be.”

 

Ryo’s shoulders deflated, eyes widening slightly, “… You left to find her?”

 

He looked away slightly. He could still remember the crack in Ryo’s voice and the burning of his stare.

 

“You were. Crying.”

 

Because

 

Because 

 

Because

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Ryo stared, slowing realizing with a small ‘ah.’

“You. Wanted to get my figurine back..?”

The other Marik didn't respond, but continued to clench his chest.

Suddenly it made sense. Of course the problem would be so simple. Ryo felt instant relief, sighing deeply. But he was also confused. Of everything, why was that the thing that made the other Marik leave?

He was staring at Ryo. He could probably tell what the other was thinking based on the blank stare.

“It. Was. Weird.” The other Marik said slowly, turning away, “Watching you. Cry.”

Ryo's cheeks went red with embarrassment, “I mean… I don’t usually act that way. You just caught me off guard.”

Ryo was weird like that. He could watch dozens of horror movies and laugh, or ogle at the weird and gross duel monster cards in glee. But then there were easily times where if something wasn’t perfect he’d rage about in frustration. 

(Bakura blamed it on the lack of sleep)

He shook his head, white locks fluttering along in the wind, “No. It’s fine. It is. You just didn’t know any better-“

“But I do.”

Ryo blinked. The other Marik wasn’t looking at him. He was staring blankly out over the horizon. It didn’t occur to Ryo, but he must’ve been freezing in just his t-shirt and bare feet, sopping wet.

“I know everything that Marik did,” he said, getting Ryo’s attention again, “I remember it all. It’s all laid out in front of me. If I focus, they replay. Like images on an endless loop. But.” 

The other Marik seemed to hunch even lower. With how limp his hair was and how little he weighed, he looked almost. Fragile.

“That’s all I can do is watch. There is nothing while I watch them. I can’t change them. I can’t do anything. I feel… Nothing. ”

They were both quiet, making the air between them awkward. Ryo let his gaze drop down, fingers fumbling together. As much as he wanted to, there wasn’t anything much he _could_ say.

After all. As hard as he tried before, Ryo couldn’t exactly figure anything about the Millennium Items. So his knowledge on magic was minimal at best. He wasn’t even the one who came up with the method for getting Bakura back, that was Marik. 

And obviously something happened for this Marik to show up the way he did. And Ryo had a feeling that it couldn’t be the same one that showed up during Battle City. So, trying to come up with something comforting about the whole thing was… Difficult. 

The blonde stood up. Ryo followed suit. He still fidgeted, trying to come up with some reassuring words, but obviously the other wouldn’t put too much thought behind them. If anything, they would probably just come off as condescending.

The other Marik turned to leave.

“… Wait,” Ryo said, taking his wrist. The other paused. When he looked up, Ryo shifted on his feet. The blank look in that lavender gaze didn’t normally make him nervous, but maybe that was because neither of them interacted this way before.

“You. Don’t have to get it back,” Ryo said, “The figurine I mean. I’m sure it’s probably a lot of trouble anyway-“

“But you were sad.”

“I know, but that’s because I was surprised by-”

“And you were crying.”

“That’s because it meant something to me-look. Just,” Ryo took a deep breath before sighing, “Can we talk about it later. It’s getting cold out, and standing around out here isn’t how I wanted to spend a day off.”

Ryo noticed the other Marik had stopped paying attention and was now looking down.

No-wait.

He was looking at Ryo’s hand holding onto his wrist. 

Ryo let go, realizing he had been clenching tightly. The white-haired man looked to the side.

“… C’mon. Let’s just go back to the apartment.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Marik let out a deep sigh. On the screen he could see Ryo speaking to his darker self. He couldn’t tell what they were saying, but at least he was found. 

The two were standing out by the docks for some reason. He had been watching Ryo for the most part, and only looked away when he saw Bakura stumble out of their apartment down to Ryo’s. He seemed extremely panicked when he ran out a moment later, probably thinking that Marik’s darker half escaped.

The thief would probably get a kick out of the fact that the two were back at the same place he and Bakura had met for the first time. _If_ Marik decided to tell him.

The two started to walk away from the pier, back down the street and probably to the apartments. Marik clicked the program off, leaning back in his chair. Crisis taken care off. And he didn’t even need to lift a finger.

Although. It was a little weird that his other half would go there of all places… Why was that…

There was a knock at the door. He groaned when the secretary appeared in the doorway.

“Um. Ishtar-san-“

“I already told you I’ll take care of the phone calls, just give me a sec,” he snapped, clicking on a few reports to bring up (not that it would matter in a few hours). The secretary fumbled out an apology.

“Oh! I took the liberty of taking the call from Otogi san-“

“Of course you did. Probably flirting again on company time,” Marik mumbled (like he was one to talk).

The secretary frowned, fidgeting in the doorway. Marik raised a brow, writing down some nonsense on a writing pad to seem busy.

“Was there something else you wanted, or were you just going to stand there?”

“Well. Yes,” The secretary held up a small package. Marik frowned, standing up and going over. It was a large, yellow envelope, but seemed to be packed by the size. He looked at the label, finding that the only thing on it was his name, the address to his office, and Egyptian stamps and labels in the corner. He took it, finding it a bit heavy.

“Did someone hand deliver this?” He asked, turning it around and looking for any other symbols or marks. The secretary shrugged.

“No. It came with the regular mail. But you were busy so-”

“Fine fine. Go back to work I’ll get to the bottom of this,” Marik said, dropping the package on the desk and sitting back down, “Was there something else? Anyone I need to call back or anything? Sudden meetings from upstairs?”

“N-No. Nothing out of the ordinary. I-I’ll leave you to it.”

The secretary left, closing the door gently. Marik rolled his eyes before looking back down at the package. 

Egypt. It could be from Isis. Or maybe Rishid. But usually they send him something directly to his apartment. Unless it had to do with Kaiba Corp. But. Why would it? He glanced at the door, making sure it was shut properly.

With a deep breath, he tore open the top and dumped out the contents over his desk.


	6. Anxious

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This hasn't updated in a while because I'm trying to finish the last chapter of Bring me to Life. Chapters of which are three times as long so that's hard to sort through.
> 
> If anyone is confused about the bathroom set up, it’s based on Japanese apartments where the shower and bath are separate from the sink and toilet (yeah I know there’s a layout in one of the manga of Ryo’s apartment, but I’m basing it off one of the apartments I stayed in). If there's continuity errors I'll fix that later. Probably.

It was a painfully long and awkward walk back to say the least, but the two eventually arrived at the apartment. They had to stop halfway at the park, as Ryo wanted to rush in a store and buy a pair of shoes for the other Marik, seeing how torn up his feet got (even if the other Marik didn’t seem to notice). By the time they got back to the front door, the storm clouds from before were almost on top of them.

Ryo let out a deep sigh, throwing his keys on the couch and toeing off his shoes. He eyed the other Marik standing by the door, shutting it lightly. Ryo looked him up and down before motioning down the hall

“Here,” Ryo said, “I think you ought to take the first shower. You’re still all wet, and we ought to patch up your feet before they get infected.”

Ryo had enough spare medical supplies from all his craft injuries, so cleaning the wounds wouldn’t be a problem. Ryo had to wonder whether to take the other into the doctor though, considering how he could easily get sick from any sort of disease (especially after jumping in the harbor).

The other Marik stared briefly before looking towards the hall. He didn’t move however. Ryo raised a brow, turning to guide him. He ran straight into another body, nearly letting out a shriek.

“B-Bakura!” Ryo stammered, “What’re you doing here?”

The thief scowled, holding up his phone, “You texted me! Remember?”

Ryo blinked, then looked at the screen, “Oh. Sorry. I forgot to respond. But I came back early so its fine.”

Ryo tried to rush past the thief to his room, but was stopped when Bakura hooked his arm around Ryo’s.

“And clearly you found someone along the way,” Bakura growled, glaring at the other Marik, “Just what were you-“

“I found him outside the building,” Ryo said, turning to face the thief with a blank look, “In fact. Why didn’t _you_ tell me that he left? Or did you let him out?”

Ryo could feel the other Marik staring at the pair, hoping that he didn’t say anything. Ryo had a feeling he wouldn’t, given Bakura’s seething expression he had directed at the two.

Bakura folded his arms together, obviously trying to come up with an excuse. At least he didn’t see through Ryo’s lie (he did have quite the poker face). Ryo motioned towards the other Marik again, pointing out the bathroom.

“Go. Shower,” he said, “I can turn on the bath afterwards if you want.”

The other Marik didn’t nod. He didn’t respond. He just walked past the two into the other room without a word. A second later, the door closed and the water started to run. Ryo let out a deep sigh.

“Don’t think that you’re off the hook,” Bakura growled, leaning closer, “What happened. Your eyes are red and puffy.”

“Probably from breakfast. You know how spicy it was,” Ryo shrugged, quickly retreating back to the kitchen. The plates from earlier were still sitting on the table, now cold. He quickly dumped them into the trash and set them into the sink. 

He set the kettle on automatically, feeling Bakura’s stare from across the room. He wasn’t even thirsty, just wanting to busy himself so he didn’t have to face the other.

“Did you need something else Bakura?” He asked, not bothering to turn around as he stood at the sink, “Don’t tell me you ate all that barbecue I gave you already. I mean. You probably need it with how little weight you ha-”

“Landlord.”

When he gazed up, Bakura was now inches away. 

The thief’s face was void, almost as much as the other Marik’s was. But it was honest. As if clearing through the anger could give him a better look at Ryo. 

Ryo turned away immediately, shoulders sinking. Bakura gripped onto his shoulder, firmly but not painfully so.

“… What happened.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

He turned the knob to the right until it was halfway along the notches.

 

The first time he tried, it was apparently too hot. He couldn’t tell.

 

Ryo did, panicking at the sight of his reddened skin and comparing him to a lobster.

 

He wasn’t allowed to fill the tub on his own for a bath. Not that he needed it. He just needed to rinse off.

 

He sat on the small stool, taking the shower head and rinsing off his back. He used the small bottle of soap. More water. His hair drooped into this face. 

 

Turn stool over for a bucket. 

 

Fill the bucket. 

 

He tilted his face up, soap running down the sides of his face instead of over his eyes. Something else Ryo warned him of.

 

Dump water on head. Repeat until bubbles are gone.

 

Turn off water.

 

The bathtub sat empty. Water dripped from the shower head, tapping against the tiles.

 

He took one of the towels hanging up. He could see red scrapes on his arms from where he had fallen. His fingertips rubbed up against them, slowly trailing up towards his shoulder blade.

 

There were scrapes on his back as well. If he thought hard enough, he could’ve sworn that the indents of scarred flesh were there. Back when he was still a fragment of Marik.

 

…

 

But if he did have Marik’s marks, they had been scraped away. Replaced by something else the moment he came back.

 

…

 

…

 

…

 

His room was across the hall. He had stood so long he was mostly dry. His clothes were in the dresser-

 

The dresser.

 

Where Ryo’s figurines were.

 

Where Ryo’s favorite figurine had been.

 

…

 

…

 

He walked down the hall, towel around his waist. The sink was running in the kitchen. 

 

He looked inside. Ryo was standing there, washing off the remnants of breakfast off the two plates as a kettle sat on the stove. Steam was coming out of it.

 

He looked around. The thief was nowhere in sight. Even if he was still around, he wouldn’t make himself known. Always watching but never making it known.

 

He walked into the kitchen, feet padding lightly agains the tile. Ryo turned around.

 

“Oh. I didn’t hear you get out,” he said quietly, “I guess I ought to shower too…”

 

Ryo’s eyes fell to the floor as he stepped forward, stopping when they landed on the other’s feet.

 

He looked down. His feet weren’t bleeding out anymore, but there were a few ruby droplets that dotted the open cuts.

 

“… Hold on.”

 

Ryo scooted out a chair from the table, hurrying out of the room. 

 

…

 

He stood there, then looked over to the trash. The breakfast clung to the sides of the thin plastic bag, sinking slowly down into the rest of the debris.

 

The kettle went off. 

 

He walked over, setting the stove off. 

 

The steam slowed, whistling calming.

 

Ryo appeared again, setting a small box on the table, motioning to the pulled out chair. 

 

He sat down, slightly hunched over. Ryo tugged on a glove, knelt down, and picked up his feet. Ryo poured a dab of clear liquid onto a cotton ball, lightly pressing it up against the red cuts.

 

They were both quiet, a faint ticking from the wall clock the only thing resounding through the room. There was a bubbling coming from the cuts, white foam forming up.

 

“Does it hurt?”

 

He looked to Ryo, who pressed a clean strip of gauze up to the cuts. Brown eyes flickered up at him, “Is there any pain when I press up against it?”

 

Pain.

 

Pain…

 

“…”

 

Ryo frowned, looked back down as he put a large bandage up against the ball of his foot. It clung to his skin without any tape. 

 

He flexed his toes when Ryo examined his other foot. The bandage was… Different. Not like the bandages that Marik had after the initiation.

 

…

 

…

 

…

 

Ryo didn’t bother looking up, face shadowed as he finished up and started piling everything back into the little box..

 

The weirdness in his gut was back. 

 

That strange feeling that made the emptiness feel even emptier. It scratched at his chest and throat that almost made them feel swollen.

 

The white-haired man stood and trailed back down the hallway. 

 

…

 

He followed.

 

“I can get you the figurine back,” he said, Ryo stopping right outside the bathroom. 

 

He shifted from foot to foot.

 

For some reason, he found the feeling in his gut starting to churn even more. Like when Marik was told the date of the ritual more and more as it got closer. This wasn’t as extreme, but it seemed like it.

 

He rubbed his thumbs against his fingers, hands hanging to his sides.

 

“I don’t know where it is. But I can get it back,” he said, waiting for some sort of response, “I can find it.”

 

Ryo turned and stared at him. Not blankly like before. There was something else in his eyes. More like this morning when they were eating together.

 

It went away when Ryo let out a sigh. He paused briefly.

 

“Look. I know, you’re sorry,” Ryo said, holding onto the door’s edge, “ But. You shouldn’t haverun off like that just because… You made me more worried then anything.”

 

Ryo shut the door, ending the short conversation.

 

It didn’t seem like it was done though. 

 

That twisting sense in his stomach didn’t go away. 

 

The water didn’t turn on. 

 

He shuffled up to the door, eyes trained on the ground.

 

“I… Wouldn’t have done it if you told me so,” he said.

 

He slowly sat down. Still not dressed. Towel still around his waist.

 

Staring at the door. 

 

…

 

…

 

Eventually, he heard the water from the shower head pour out and hit the floor. Soon, steam started rising from under the door.

 

…

 

He wanted to… Ryo was still upset so he wanted to…

 

…

 

What would Marik do…

 

…

 

He went back into the kitchen.

 

Phone.

 

He dialed the number again.

 

It rang once. Twice. A click.

 

_“Katsuki Barbecue.”_

 

It was a different person than yesterday. Their voice was more of a dull drone. They didn’t even say the full line.

 

_“… Hello?”_

 

~~~~~~~~~~

A plume of steam quickly filled the room. With hair tied in a knot and loose strands clinging to his face, Ryo sighed deeply against the warm shower water. Not because of how relaxing it felt after running all morning, but because of the weight of Bakura’s conversation. 

The thief quickly figured out that Ryo had lied about what went on that morning, but he was able to twist the truth just enough so that it seemed like he had simply lost track of the other Marik when they went out for a walk after breakfast.

Bakura’s immediate response was to lecture him, and make a vague threat of keeping a closer eye on the apartment. (Not that he would). The topic was dropped the second Ryo hinted at the thief having any sort of inkling of care.

" _Wh-What?! Why would- Oh please! I'm more worried about the fall out of a murderous rampage being traced back to Marik._  ”

Ryo let out another sigh.

He probably should’ve just admitted that the other Marik wandered out of the apartment because of his figurine. Although, Ryo wouldn’t have been able to live it down if Bakura knew that he had bawled over a clay toy, even if it were because of sentimentality. Bakura did threaten to break them many times while in the ring because he knew how much they meant to Ryo.

(But Ryo had better threats with tossing the ring into the freezer or out into the back alley to keep the thief in check)

Still, he knew Bakura was only trying to look out for him. In his own gruff way. 

Ryo scrubbed at his arms, not putting too much effort since he wasn’t planning on having a bath. He just wanted to get the sea breeze and salt streaks off his face. As soon as he finished spraying off he toweled just enough to slip back into his clothes from the morning.

And with the shower off, Ryo was able to hear the other Marik talking in the other room. Ryo raised a brow. Did Bakura come back? No. Probably not. Then who…

Ryo walked out into the hallway, peeking into the kitchen to see the phone cord tangling out into the living room. He followed the plastic line, leading to the other Marik hunched over the coffee table. He was slowly writing something down, a voice droning on the other line.

He didn’t notice the white-haired man, a strange focus in his eyes as he eventually finished whatever it was that he was noting. The voice said a few more things before the line clicked off. The other Marik looked down at the phone, then eventually up at Ryo.

If he was surprised, he didn’t show it. Ryo fiddled with the edges of his shirt.

“Uhh. Was that for me?” He asked, somewhat worried at who could’ve called, “I didn’t hear it ring. You probably could’ve let it keep ri-“

“I called the barbecue place,” the other Marik said immediately, standing up and shuffling back into the kitchen. Ryo watched him place the phone back onto the receiver. He held up the notepad for Ryo to see.

Brown eyes glanced over the writing.The characters were surprisingly stable, though there was a bit of a shakiness on the edges. As if the other Marik had only one lesson in writing. But it was clear what he had been writing.

“An address?” Ryo questioned, taking the pad in hand, “Don’t tell me you want more barbe-“

“I’m going to go get your figurine,” the other Marik stated, plucking the note pad from Ryo's hands before going to the door. Ryo nearly let him walk right out before grabbing a hold of the other’s arm.

“H-Hold on!” Ryo said, “I-I already said that you don’t need to get it for me! It’s fine!”

The other Marik turned around. He didn’t stare directly at Ryo, instead looking to his hand again. Ryo nearly pulled away again, but instead stayed firm.

The blonde visibly relaxed. He turned more towards Ryo, a strange mix of something in his eyes. It looked like he wanted to say something, so Ryo stayed silent for him to collect his words.

“I… There’s something in my chest. It… It’s strange,” he muttered, not quite looking up towards Ryo, “It... It's a hollowness."

"Hollow?"

"It... Is as if I’m hungry, but I don’t want to eat. That If I do, I’ll be sick. When I focus on it, the whole world seems to twist…”

Ryo blinked a few times, the other Marik staring straight at him. He continued.

“When I see you. All I can think about is what you said. That it was fine. It wasn’t. You were crying.”

Oh. So that's what it was.

“I’ll get your figurine back,” the other Marik said, the slightest change in his tone, “I don’t want you to be… Upset.”

He reached up with his free hand. At first Ryo stared, waiting as a copper hand hovered slowly. Eventually, it settled on his shoulder. The other Marik didn’t grasp it, or even anything comforting. Instead, he just let his palm rest limply on Ryo’s shoulder.

Ryo let out a sigh. He had to admit, the other Marik was… Not what he was expecting at all.

Wordlessly, Ryo pulled the other Marik’s hand down, guiding the other back into the living room. He followed without any resistance, staring at Ryo’s hands.

“As much as you want to run around trying to find some random delivery girl, you really shouldn’t,” Ryo said, motioning at the bandaids on the other’s feet, “You might need to stay inside for a bi-“

“It doesn’t hurt.”

“Hmm?”

The other Marik sat down on the couch, pulling away from Ryo’s grasp. He slouched in his seat, his toes flexing every so often.

“I… don’t feel. I told you that earlier,” he said, “Pain… Feeling… There. There’s nothing. I just… There isn’t anything there.”

He looked up with the same blank look as always, except this time it seemed even emptier. Almost desolate. Ryo swallowed hard, feeling his own throat getting dry.

“Are… Are you sure?”

He nodded, eyes dropping down again. He leaned more into the cushions, almost melting into them. 

Ryo was confused, even if it did make sense. The other’s nonexistent expressions made that abundantly clear he was telling the truth. And it would also explain why he never wanted to do more than what Ryo directed him to. He had no _desire_ to do anything…

But. If it was true, why did he care so much about getting back Ryo’s figurine?

At the thought, an idea perked into Ryo’s mind. He went to his room, feet padding along the wood floor. He went straight to his desk, digging out supplies from it. He cursed when he realized that there was hardly any modeling clay left. And some of his finer paintbrushes were all tattered on the ends. Looks like he’d have to head out again.

Ryo hurried and grabbed his shoes and jacket, knowing that the weather would probably take a turn as soon as the evening hit. He nearly walked right out the door before remembering the other Marik.

“Oh,” he said, then quickly walked back. The other Marik was still sitting on the couch. He hadn’t even moved at all during the time Ryo had run off.

Ryo stared, unsure of whether or not to bring the other along at all. It would be worth it to bring him and make sure that he wouldn’t wander off. But then again, Bakura might be watching from Marik’s apartment.

(And Ryo really didn’t have it in him to try and argue with the thief some more.)

Ryo threw his shoes off and went back to the kitchen.

He grabbed some of the leftover taiyaki and popped them into the microwave.  Digging through the cabinets, Ryo pulled out a mug and some green tea. Even though it was more on the bitter side, there wasn’t any other choice besides water. He quickly made a cup, grabbing the taiyaki from the microwave as he went back into the living room.

“Here,” he said, setting the plate of sweet cake down and placing the mug in the other Marik’s hands, “Just. Hang tight until I get back. I won’t be long I promise.”

He turned, pausing at the doorframe, “And please don’t leave the apartment!”

The other Marik gave a small nod, gazing down at the mug in hand.

Ryo fumbled his fingers at his side, hurrying out the door and back down the stairwell towards the shops.


	7. Interest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that these seemed to take awhile to update. I’ve been busy for the past few months (and I keep going back and forth between projects to keep everything updated). Anyway, with Bring me to Life coming to a close I’ll be able to work on this fic more casually and update more often *fingers crossed*

He sat there. On the couch. Staring at the door that the ve-

 

…

 

That Ryo had gone through. 

 

He was left alone again.

 

But.

 

It wasn’t like before. 

 

Like yesterday morning. Or any of the other mornings.

 

No. It was different.

 

He stared into the little mug, seeing the steaming green tea, then up towards the little fish shaped cakes.

 

Fished shaped. Not actually fish.

 

…

 

He needed to think about that for a moment. When Marik first ordered them, Marik had Rishid eat many of them, insisting that something fish shaped had to be a fish.

 

…

 

He picked one up, squeezing the soft cake between his fingers.

 

…

 

Marik liked them after Rishid reassured him it wasn’t fish.

 

…

 

He bit into it, chewing softly. There was something that filled it, having a grainy texture.

 

But.

 

Unlike the other times that he had eaten, there was something on his tongue that tingled. Faintly. He couldn’t figure it out.

 

He took another bite, hoping that maybe he hadn’t imagined it.

 

…

 

…

 

After two tentative bites, he still felt nothing.

 

He lowered the fish shaped cake slowly down. He stared at the dead eye that looked back up to him.

 

For all he knew it really was fish.

 

In his other hand he still held the cup of tea.

 

…

 

Marik was indifferent to tea.

 

Marik mostly drank water down in the tombs. Something that their father insisted on with him being the heir to their lineage. He couldn’t quite remember.

 

…

 

After they got out, Marik tried everything. From everywhere. That was when he figured out he didn’t like meat, getting sick off it for a day.

 

Rishid thought it was food poisoning.

 

…

 

Marik liked coffee.

 

According to Ryo, this was similar.

 

…

 

He drank the tea.

 

It made his tongue tingle from the heat. It was like water, just something for him to drink.

 

But. Maybe.

 

He drank again. And again. And again.

 

Just like with his first bite of the fishy cake, there was something on the back of his tongue that twinged oddly. Not quite like pain.

 

He ate the remaining fishy cake. 

 

… 

 

…

 

…

 

Yes. 

 

There was something.

 

He wasn’t imagining it.

 

A tingling went over the top of his tongue. It made his mouth salivate more. It felt familiar. Somehow.

 

Like.

 

When Ryo took his hand earlier by the docks.

 

…

 

He ate another bite of the fishy cake, alternating with sips of the tea.

 

He took his time with it, chewing slowly and letting the cake filling dissolve in his mouth. The texture remaining as the taste of sweet came back.

 

It was.

 

It reminded him of a spongey sweet Marik ate when they left Egypt and went up into Europe. That one was different, but it was… Similar. Weirdly enough.

 

…

 

He did the same with the tea, letting it sit in his mouth before swallowing. The numbness seemed to subside as he sat there, the steam slowly fading away. It was getting colder, not that he could tell. 

 

…

 

…

 

…

 

But he could tell that the taste wasn’t like the fishy cake.

 

No. It was a bit like their breakfast. 

 

Bitter.

 

…

 

He kept going until there was nothing left.

 

And when he was done he ran his tongue along the inside of his mouth, against his teeth and cheeks. It was a curious thing. Almost like there was feeling there, hidden under layers and layers. 

 

Maybe.

 

He almost stood up before remembering what Ryo said. He looked to the clock. An hour had passed without him really noticing.

 

…

 

He went to the kitchen, opening the fridge and taking the leftovers from yesterday out. He took up the little container that held some of the noodles that Ryo had choked on.

 

He grabbed a fork and stabbed a clump of green noodles. He crammed it in his mouth, despite already eating some of it that morning. 

 

But unlike that morning, he took his time with chewing. He swished it around in his mouth, trying to focus on that faint sensation that seemed to spark something. 

 

What did Ryo say? Spicy?

 

It was. Like a pinching sensation. Or a prickling. Not painful, but not like the fishy cake.

 

He looked to the fridge, grabbing another box.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Ryo rushed down the building’s stairwell in a manner that wasn’t nearly as panicked as this morning, yet still fast enough to look like he was in a hurry. And with the dark clouds now starting to build in the sky, he wasn’t wanting to spend anymore time out then necessary.

Luckily for him, the shops were just up a few blocks. It wouldn’t take him too long to get there. He probably didn’t really need to buy any food while he was out, given how much the fridge was stocked up with take out. Still, probably shouldn’t depend on microwaved leftovers for the next week. 

(He knew too well from high school how boring it quickly got). They needed fresh vegetables. Fruits. Maybe even desserts…

At the thought of having a delightful light pastry, Ryo suddenly paused. Did the other Marik even know about sugary treats? Things like ice cream or pudding? Marik didn’t seem to care too much for sweet things, but maybe the other Marik would like them more.

(and any time Ryo bought some, they were gone the second Bakura nicked them)

His stomach gave a small growl, reminding him that he hadn’t quite finished his breakfast. He checked his watch, seeing how it was already the afternoon. Yep. He would _definitely_ need to go by the bakery.

Within minutes Ryo was at the small street with a variety of stores open. Now that it was well past lunch, there were a few people lingering about. He wove through the crowds, managing to get to the craft store he regularly went to. 

Normally, he’d go to Yuugi’s grandpa’s shop. But he’d probably spend more time looking at the new game pieces than anything else. No. He’d do that another time. 

After glancing through the shelves and boxes littered about, Ryo chose a quick drying clay this time, along with a few other shades of paint that were more shimmery and colorful. After grabbing a new set of paintbrushes and paying for the wares, he trailed back along the street towards the grocery store.

(If he didn’t hurry, he’d spend forever in that store).

The grocery store itself was small, but at least held everything he needed throughout the week. He grabbed a little basket, not sparing any time picking through the vegetables and fruits at the front.

He picked peaches and pears, carrots and cucumbers, and plenty of little herbs. Ryo even decided to grab some of the more bold produce like bell pepper and okra. Anything that he could add to their leftovers or eat plain.

As Ryo came around towards the poultry, a sudden thought occurred to him.

The other Marik ate meat.

Of course, he ate anything Ryo put in front of him, but it was hard to tell whether he liked any of it or not. Marik never ate meat, and was a bit repulsed by the idea. 

Was he just being polite?

Ryo shook his head, picking up a few filets of chicken and a pack of bacon. Those were simple enough. And if the other Marik didn’t like them, then he could always come back and try something else.

Hopefully by that point, Ryo would be able to bring the other Marik with him.

He stopped at the little section of sweets. Most of them were prepackaged, but some were made there in the store. He picked up two different types of dango, and some sweet bread that could be used for breakfast. 

At one point his stomach growled again in line, Ryo blushing when someone turned around. Yep. Definitely going to the bakery.

He quickly paid, now toting a few bags in each hand. Even if the other Marik wouldn’t care too much about sweets, the least he could do is offer him some.

Down the street on the fastest route home was a chain bakery, which would be fine for now (as much as he wanted a fresh creme puff from a patisserie). The second he came inside, the warm sweet smell of chocolate made him smile.

He passed by the counters to line, gazing down at the little sweets they had. Should he make it simple? Maybe a vanilla custard? Or cinnamon bread? What did Marik like…

“Welcome!” The cashier said with a perky grin, “What can I get you?”

“Can I get two croissants and a sponge cake? The one with chocolate dusted on top?”

She nodded scooping out two buttery breads and a cupcake with a dollop of whipped topping.She started boxing them up while typing on the register screen.

“750 yen…. You look familiar. Do I know you from somewhere?” The cashier scratched her head, holding the little paper bag out, “From a tournament maybe…? I think… Someone with white-hair…”

The corner of Ryo’s mouth twitched as he slid a few notes over the counter, “No. I don’t duel a lot. I’m probably really bad at it. Thank you!”

He scooped up the little bag and casually strolled out of the store. The second he was out he started cursing Bakura’s name under his breath. 

Of course he’d still be getting recognized from battle city even after years. Kaiba made a point to brag about it every year during the time of the annual tournament. 

(The actual winner was never revealed, one of the only reasons why Kaiba was allowing such blatant advertising)

(But that didn’t keep people from recognizing Ryo at some point)

“Stupid thief. He steals my body, and takes the credit for my strategies. Next time he enters anything I’ll be sure to expose that fake,” Ryo grumbled, eventually getting back to the apartment, “I’m home!”

He waited, hearing for any indication that the other Marik was still there. In the kitchen he could hear rustling. Either the other Marik was there or Bakura. 

Ryo glanced around, seeing the living room empty. The other Marik’s plate and mug still sat on the coffee table, though they were empty. At least he ate the snack.

He went to the source of the noise.

“Hello? You in here?”

Ryo was welcomed to a rather messy kitchen with the other Marik sitting by the open fridge.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

Sour

 

That’s what it was.

 

A pungent taste that was just as faint as the others, but still unique enough for him to recognize. 

 

Marik had something sour before. A little candy he bought from some street vendor. He didn’t like it because it made his tongue curl. Not like this though, that was strong. 

 

Or maybe this was and he didn’t know it. His sense were still… Dull.

 

He stared down at the little carton, licking his lips.

 

At least there was one thing for certain.

 

The milk was sour.

 

“Hello? You in here?”

 

Footsteps. He turned and saw Ryo standing there, bags in hand. His garnet eyes widened at the sight of open containers all around the floor, most of which were empty.

 

“Uh… Did. Did you just eat all of this?” Ryo asked, walking over and picking up one of the half empty containers. There was some sort of marinated meat that was covered in seeds in it.

 

He looked away, going back to swishing the remaining milk in the carton, “I… Wanted to try.”

 

“Try what?”

 

He nashed his teeth against his cheek. What was he trying? Not feeling. That was for sure. No, it was a simpler.

 

…

 

…

 

…

 

“Taste.”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“I wanted to taste this,” he said, gesturing out to the food, “I’m… Trying to… Taste.”

 

Ryo had a confused look, but nodded anyway. He put the bags in his hand on the table before cleaning up. He didn’t bother to keep the containers with a single bite left, chucking them into the garbage. Ryo scratched his head.

 

“I’ll probably have to take out the trash afterwards,” Ryo muttered, then shook his head, “Oh! If you’re still hungry, here! I brought you something I think you’ll like.”

 

He got up from the floor, shuffling over to the table. There were a few bags with little jars and brushes like the ones Marik used to write with in the tombs. Only. They were more… Put together.

 

Ryo gestured over to a brown paper bag. The white-haired man pulled out a small bread with a paper around it. A swirl of white and brown dust topped it.

 

“Here. It’s sponge cake,” Ryo said, “It’s sweet, though not too sweet. It’s definitely better than the microwaved taiyaki.”

 

He held the small cake, seeing how the topping was already melting. Sweeter then the fishy cake…

 

Sweet.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Ryo watched as the other stared down at the vanilla cupcake. He bore no expression or any hint of curiosity. Ryo shifted on his feet.

Was he going to say something? Was he even going to eat it? Maybe he wasn’t hungry after all that-

The other Marik pulled the paper off and crammed the whole thing in his mouth.

“Ah!”

Ryo held his hands up slightly, mouth gawking as the other Marik stood like that, cheeks puffed out with creme on his face. He chewed slowly, almost annoyingly. Eventually, he swallowed the cake down.

Ryo blinked a few times, watching as an intense look passed the other’s face, “Uh… So uh…”

The other Marik looked up, empty boredom coming over him again.

“Did you uh. Did you like it?” Ryo asked, somewhat hopeful, “If not. I have a croissant. I ate one on the way and they’re pretty fresh. Have you had one before? They’re just fancy bread rolls in my opinion-“

“… Sweet.”

“What?”

“Sweet,” the other Marik repeated, rubbing the creme from his face and looking down at it, “It’s… Sweet.”

Ryo raised a brow, “Uh… Yeah. That’s what I was hoping for. It’d be kinda weird if it wasn’t. Then it probably went bad otherwise.”

Ryo laughed nervously, picking up the bag with his supplies and taking the other’s hand, “C’mon. This is what I really went out to get.”

He led the other Marik back to the living room, kneeling down next to the coffee table and depositing all the craft supplies he bought. He picked up the package of crafting clay.

“See? This is what I used for my figurines,” he said, ripping it open, “Nowadays you can buy molds or pre made ones, but I liked making them custom. Like the time I…”

Ryo stopped. 

He stared down at the little box, remembering vaguely of a similar scene.

 

…

 

It was a late night.

 

Back when he first moved to this part of town.

 

Almost immediately after his first day at Domino High.

 

Some of his figures had been worked on, after he woke up from-

 

A hand came into view, stirring Ryo from his daze.

He looked up, seeing the other Marik picking up the half opened clay from his hands. Lavender eyes stared down at the messy glob.

“… What do I-“

“You can make something with it,” Ryo said, “That’s how I made my figurines you saw in the room. I made all of them myself.”

“But,” the other Marik started, lowering the clay down, “This isn’t going to get your figurine back.”

“Probably not, but that’s why we can make one,” Ryo said with a smile, clasping his hands around the other’s and making sure the clay didn’t fall onto the table.

The other Marik stared at him. First down at his hands, then up so their eyes met. Ryo found himself smiling with as much glee that he could, but found it slipping as he gazed at the other.

He hadn't thought about it before, but despite being the same as Marik, there was something different in the other's eyes.  Distantly, shimmering lightly like-

The clay started slipping between their fingers, Ryo gasping as he quickly scooped it up.

“Hold on!” Ryo said, crawling over and dragging some newspaper over to cover the table. He managed to save the top of the coffee table as the clay fell from the other Marik’s hands.

Ryo sighed deeply, sinking against the floor as he watched the other Marik pick up the little jars and bottles. Despite it all, Ryo found himself smiling in relief, chasing away those missing thoughts that had started to come back.

One day down.


End file.
